


Back To You

by Astereae



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Ballet, Alternate Universe - Dance, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I’ll add tags as I go along, Meet-Cute, Multi, Slow Burn, callum has an eidetic memory, im a dancer I’ve competed in dance competitions I know it’s not like this but the drama, like people leaving and growing up drama, mostly for more drama, only two years
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-02-17 23:24:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21601453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astereae/pseuds/Astereae
Summary: Rayla is a dancer at The Moonshadow studios, and she’s getting ready for auditions and her debut into a company. Callum is a barista with a lot of pressure on him to get into a good college because his dad thinks he can, even if school has never been his thing (he doesn’t really have a thing), and they meet one December night after a winter studio showcase. Once. And they won’t ever see each other again, but it’s nice.But before Rayla’s auditions, she’s gonna compete at ABC one more time. And she wants to do it in the category she’s always dominated. Pas de Deux. But her partner graduated last year, so unless someone comes along...Aka I’m bored, I have emotions, I like dancing, I like this show, and there’s way more of this I just need to get it done.
Relationships: Amaya/Janai (The Dragon Prince), Callum & Claudia (The Dragon Prince), Callum & Ezran & King Harrow (The Dragon Prince), Callum & Soren (The Dragon Prince), Callum/Rayla (The Dragon Prince), Runaan/Ethari (The Dragon Prince), Runaan/Tinker | Necklace Elf (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 111
Kudos: 250





	1. December, one year ago

Rayla didn’t find the barista cute. Swear to god. Unfortunately, Maia would not listen to her.

“Just go up and order a scone!” She said, slapping her hand. “Whatever, just go and do it!”

“It’s a lot easier for the barista to give ya his number than trying to give the barista yours.” She said, burying her face in her elbow crook. Maybe she thought he was attractive. A little.

“You’ve wasted a whole entire fifteen minutes denying that you want his number. He thinks you’re cute.”

“He doesn’t!” She said.

“He keeps on looking over here.”

“Probably because we’re both wearing sweats over leotards, have sweaty gross makeup, and mad tight buns.”

“We have to head back over to the stage in ten. Go buy a scone, now.”

“Please shut up.”

Maia huffed, and got up.

“What are ya doin?” Rayla hissed.

“Giving the man a tip.”

Rayla glared at her friend as she chatted with the boy. He laughed about something.

“You should’ve done something.” She said as they walked around the corner back to the venue.

“We have one more performance and then we go back to the studio for six months.” Rayla said. “And I don’t come into this neck of the woods that often.”

“Your loss.”

He wasn’t even that cute.

Five hours later, it was snowing outside. Rayla was behind the venue, bawling. She wasn’t really sure about what- no friends, no future, being an orphan, exhaustion via the fact that she’d been up since four that morning. No one else was out in the back. Her warm-up booties weren’t quite warm enough, and there was a hole in her tights, and she could feel the cold there worse than anywhere else. The sodium light protruding from the brick wall made everything a hazy orange, including her breath.

“Are you okay?” Someone asked from behind her. She whipped around, pressing her hands into her eyes to hide the fact that she’d been crying inconsolably for about 5 minutes. The cute barista from earlier was standing with a trash bag in one hand and a phone in the other.

“Yeah.” She said, so soft it was really just a breath. “Yeah,” She said louder. “I’m fine, sorry. Just needed a breath.”

“You don’t mean a smoke do you? I hear a lot of ballerinas smoke to keep their weight low.” He walked slowly to the dumpster about five metres from Rayla and tossed the trash bag in.

“If they do, they’re stupid.” Rayla said.

“Your hair is different.” He noted. “It was in a bun earlier.”

“Oh, I brush it out for my last two dances.” She said.

“I’m Callum.” He said, holding out a hand for her to shake.

“Rayla.” She said, taking it. “Ye... ye remember me from this afternoon?”

“Yeah,” he said. “The dancer girls. You stood out a little.”

“People say that about Maia a lot,” Rayla said.

“No, you stood out.” He said. They both paused. “Sorry.” He said.

“Sorry.” She replied.

“Was it a good performance?” He asked.

“I think so.” She said. “I’m kinda relieved. It was stressful.”

“Did you get any flowers?” He asked.

Rayla laughed. “None other than the fake ones on me costume.”

“Wait here.” He said, turning around and going back into the store. Rayla was a little stunned, seeing as it wasn’t something that was supposed to happen to her.

Callum returned with a bouquet of flowers- the kind that you get at the grocery store, pre-arranged, and matching the season. They were sorta wilted and some were missing a few petals, and they were still held together by the thick blue rubber band.

“I’m supposed to throw them out,” he said, “but you should have some flowers. Because it was a good performance.”

Tears were welling up again. The kindness of this semi-attractive stranger should not have been enough to make her break down.

“Did I say something wrong?” He asked, panicked.

“No.” Rayla said, holding onto the flowers tightly. “I’ve just been awake for too long. I promise I’m not usually like this.”

“Do you want me to bring out a hot chocolate? On the house.”

“Aren’t ya closing?” She asked.

“Yeah.” He said. “Unless Soren emptied the thermos already, which we always do last, there should be enough for you to have a cup.”

“Why are ye doing this?”

“Because you look cold and miserable.” She was. “And you need a friend.” She did. “And I’ve been there. Life is rough. I’m not gonna make any assumptions, but hot chocolately milk is usually a good thing, for just a little bit. And seeing as you had a mocha latte, I know you’re not allergic to anything in it.”

“Ya remember me order?”

Callum blushed, rubbing the back of his head. “Yeah.” He said. “I’ll go get your hot chocolate that you didn’t ask for and probably don’t want.”

Rayla didn’t know if he ever came back, though, because Ethari called her to go home. He had her dance bag over his shoulder, and she looked back once before joining him.

“Someone got ye flowers?” He asked. “A boyfriend? Girlfriend?”

“Just a friend.” She said, looking at a limp, dark red flower. “Just... a bit of luck.”

“That bit of luck won’t do well for much longer in water.” He said. “I’ll break out the fruit dehydrator, and we can keep ‘em for longer, sound good?”

“Sounds good.” She said, climbing into the passenger seat of the car. She leaned the seat all the way back and closed her eyes. “Will you carry me inside, like when I was little?” She asked him.

“No,” Ethari said. “Yer too big now.” He started to talk about the performance, things that went well, the girl whose ribbon came untied, but Rayla didn’t listen. She fell asleep instead.


	2. January

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Callum did the body roll- the kick after was executed beautifully, but the body roll had Rayla in fits on the floor.
> 
> “What is it?”
> 
> “Ya look like a pigeon!”
> 
> “I do not-” Callum stopped the video and watched himself. “Okay, maybe... ksssssngergt.”
> 
> Rayla struggled between gasps to make out- “what... pffff- what was that noise?”
> 
> “Maybe I do look a little like a pigeon.”
> 
> “That was a very pigeon body roll.”
> 
> “You know what this is? This is proof that you’re a terrible teacher. Because you should be telling me how to fix it, and instead, you’re laughing at me.”

A year and a little later, Rayla was finding a pair of tights behind the front desk for one of her girls to buy when the bell rang from the front door of the studio.

“Hello?” A guy asked. “I’d like to sign up for a dance class.”

“Aye, I can help ya in a minute!” Rayla called, finally pulling the right size out and taking the girl’s money, marking it down on the ledger. She turned to look at the newcomer.

“Hi. Rayla.” He said.

“Wait, I swear I remember... Callum?” She asked.

“Yeah.” He said. “Sorry if this... seems creepy. I legitimately didn’t know this was your studio."

“No, it’s... It's fine.” she stuttered, flushing for absolutely no reason. “What kind of class do you wanna take?”

“I'm... I’m not totally sure. What do you think I’d be good at?”

“I’d have to see your body move a bit... That sounded so wrong, I mean-”

“No, I know what you meant.” the conversation stopped.

“I’ll call our head instructor. He’s really good at placing people.”

But before she could even get out her phone, Ethari came down the stairs holding her lunch.

“Rayla, I hope ye don't mind, I think I've put a bit too much mustard in the tuna-”

“No, it’s fine.” She rushed. “Could you help me put Callum here in a class?”

“Ya ken how to register people-”

“I meant finding a fit for him. I don’t think he’s danced before, ave ye?”

Callum shook his head.

Ethari strode down the rest of the stairs gracefully and inspected him casually. “That depends. Do ye think ye could lift Rayla?”

“What?!” they both exclaimed.

“Well, if ye can, we can work with however flexible and centered ya are. If not, we'll put ya in whatever adult beginning class you want to work on.”

“I think I could... It depends on how?”

“Well, come into the studio, take off your shoes,” Ethari said.

“What are ye doing?” Rayla hissed, catching up to him.

“Well, ya don't have a Pas de Deux partner as it stands, and I know those are yer favorite dances. And ye think he's cute."

Rayla huffed, kicking her teaching shoes off in a corner, then stripped off her warm-up pants.

“So,” Ethari began, “Lifting Rayla is a lot like lifting a mannequin. She doesn't move. That's good, cause it makes it easy.”

Rayla walked over to Ethari, giving him a stink eye.

“So, put a hand under her arm, and when she jumps, you'll put the other under her leg and continue the force from her jump until your arms are straight.” he counted off and Rayla jumped. He held her up as he explained the catch to Callum, then tossed her gently and caught her, swinging her back and resting her on the floor.

“So?” He asked.

“Yeah, I could... I could definitely try.” Callum said. “Doesn’t this require a lot of trust, though?”

“Yes. Which is why my last Pas partner was a boy who I’d been dancing with since I was ten.”

“What happened to him?”

“He moved for college.” She said. “I’ll count off, don’t worry, I’ve been dropped before.”

“Well, I hope I don’t drop you.”

Rayla knew he would.

She counted off, pliéd, and jumped. Surprisingly, his hand found the right place on her leg, and surprisingly, she made it all the way to the top. His hands were not as still as Ethari’s had been, but he held her up there for a beat, then two, shaking, and he tossed her in the same way that she was used too, and he caught her. Rayla barely managed to scoop her leg to the passé as he swung her. He waited until she extended her leg and set her down.

Rayla looked at Ethari in the mirror behind her, her mouth open in shock, and she didn’t even bother closing it.

“Was that right?” He asked.

“Are ya alright with doing two hours every Tuesday and Thursday?” Ethari asked.

“How much will that cost?” He asked. “I’m paying out of my pocket, so...”

“Whatever ya can afford.” Ethari said. “Hundred a month?”

“Yeah.” Callum said. “When do we start?”

“Thursday would work. This week.”

Callum smiled awkwardly. “When should I come in?”

“I train for four hours that day, so come at three, when I start, so we can stretch together.” Rayla said.

“Alright.” Callum said, backing towards the door of the studio. “I’ll... I’ll see ya then?”

Rayla and Ethari both nodded, still stunned.

“He has gotta be lying about never having danced before.” Ethari said.

“I don’t think he is.” Rayla said.

  
  
  


Callum had an eidetic memory. At least, he was pretty sure he did- he wasn’t sure if he had to get a professional diagnosis or something for that. But his mind was like a steel trap. Anything he saw, he could draw, down to details. He could remember anything said to him, or near him, with clarity. Which made him a pretty good barista- there was no time wasted in writing things down or looking up how to make them.

And he could easily recall the two ballet girls who had come in a year ago. Mostly cause the rest of the day was so memorable. Rayla, with white blonde hair turned orange in the light. Her crying, giving her flowers, going and getting two cups of hot chocolate, and when he returned, she was gone.

He had not gone to the Moonshadow Ballet studio with the knowledge that it was her studio, however. He wasn’t sure why he had gone. It felt sorta like a rebellion. Taking control over his life by doing something not endorsed, not for profit, not part of being a “natural genius”. The studio was close to his house, and he went after school on a whim. Rayla being there was just a nice surprise. And being asked to train with her was just a nicer one.

“Have you heard back from any colleges yet?” His step-dad asked him from the kitchen when he dropped his backpack in the mud room.

“Only the same ones I’d heard from when you asked this morning.” He said. Safety schools, his dad called them. Schools that weren’t ivies. He walked into the kitchen and took an apple. The classic smell of tart raspberry jelly was stronger than usual, which meant that he was sad. “I’m going to start taking Ballet.” Callum said, leaning against the counter and playing with a sticky leftover piece of dough.

“Ballet? What’s the reasoning behind that?”

“I just... want to do something different.” He sighed. “School’s kinda taken art away from me, you know? I’m expected to get into shows, and sell my art, and draw what people want me to draw. It’s all monetary, and I have nothing left for myself at the end of the day.”

“So... dance?”

“Dance.” Callum restated.

“Don’t let it distract from your studies.”

Everything distracted Callum from his studies. Even a fly caught between his screen and his window was enough to keep him from finishing an assignment. But he nodded anyways.

“Can you go pick up Ezran from school?” His step-dad asked. “I didn’t realize the time when I put the jelly tarts in the oven.”

“Sure.” He said, pretending he didn’t feel somewhat alienated. It had gotten worse since his mom died. Their pug, having heard Ezran’s name, toddled into the kitchen.

“Do you wanna come to get Ezran?” Callum asked him, picking him up and scratching his head. “Alright, Bait, let’s go.”

Ezran was possibly Callum’s favorite person in the world. Twelve years old, and it’s not like he was unaware of the crap that was going on in the world, but he was still happy. And Callum had friends, of course- Soren and Claudia who lived next door, who he worked with and went to school with- but no one was as close as him and his little half-brother. He was smart, but still very obviously a kid, and Callum loved that, and he loved keeping him as a kid, because he'd never really had the chance.

“What did you learn in school today?” Callum asked when he climbed into the front seat, flinging his backpack unceremoniously into the back and letting Bait climb into his lap.

“‘What did you learn in school today,’” he mocked, “you sound like dad. I learned that due to severe inbreeding, racehorses are often born without skin!”

“Sounds horrifying.” Callum said.

“So to keep them alive, they have to put them into a horse NICU to simulate a womb.”

“Tell Dad you learned something normal, like how to center clay or something.” Callum pulled out of the school driveway. “What class did you even learn that in?”

“Financial decision making.”

“I fail to see the correlation.”

“Well, I don't know what the rest of the class was learning about.” Ez said. “But I was learning about how to treat premie horses.”

“At least dad's gonna be proud if one of us when you get a doctorate in veterinary sciences.”

“Dad’s proud of you.”

“The only reason I even have a shot at any ivies is my test scores. I’m a terrible student and you know it.” he sighed.

“He’s not expecting you to use football to pay your way into a good college and be a doctor. He’s not expecting you to be him.”

“He’d like it, though.” Callum sighed, again, deeply and dramatically.

  
  
  


That Thursday, he showed up ten minutes early to the studio, wearing the closest he could manage to dance clothes- sweatpants and a tight muscle top. Although the door was unlocked, no one was there. “Hello?” he called.

The stairs to one side of the front room pounded and Rayla appeared on the top landing, a loose sweatshirt barely hanging off her shoulders and wet, uncombed hair dripping onto the wood.

“Yer early!” she exclaimed.

“Was I not supposed to be?”

“Just... Just stay here.” she ran back upstairs. Callum strolled around the front room awkwardly, looking into the ballet studio hesitantly.

“Take off yer shoes!” he heard her call. He sat on a bench and untied them, leaving them with his bag under it.

She ran down the stairs with a bag and tossed it into the studio.

“Do you... live up there?”

“Aye, there’s an apartment upstairs. I live there with Ethari.”

“Isn’t he a bit young to be your dad?”

“He’s my guardian, and that is none of yer business.” She ran her fingers through her hair urgently to pull it into a bun. He stood awkwardly while she ducked behind the desk and tossed a pair of shoes at him.

“Try those on.” she said. He sat again, putting on the black ballet flats.

“They’re a bit tight.” He told her.

“They’re supposed to be.” She said. “And, by the way, ya should buy at least one set of dance clothes. Capizio is damn cheap, if money’s a concern, but I say get something quality. I dance with Bloch, always have. Studio policy is white on top, black on bottom.”

“So, um... With the whole... being your dance partner-”

“Donnae tell me ya feel uncomfortable.” She said, popping up and inspecting his shoes.

“No, it’s just that I’m not especially qualified in any way. I mean, in the e-mail Ethari sent to me, it made it sound like we would be competing and stuff, and I don’t want to bring you down.”

Rayla entered the studio confidently and turned on the lights. “I have individual events.” she said. “And besides, I think by the time competition season rolls around, you’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Not entirely.” She said, looking back to him. “Are ya ready for a crash course in ballet basics?”

Callum smiled, but in the mirror, it looked like a grimace.

  
  


Callum was unfairly good at ballet, and it made Rayla resent him, just a little. His feet weren’t quite strong enough to hold a solid point yet, and he wasn’t wildly flexible, but Rayla only had to go through each sequence once before he could do it without her. He had a natural elegance in his arms, and she corrected the angle of his elbow once and now it was perfect. Mostly, she thought that he just had a really good sense of where his body was and what muscles he was engaging, which is, in essence, every dancer’s dream.

She had been dancing longer than she could remember, but Runaan and Ethari called her out on stiffness all the time, even now, or splayed hands, or bending her knees on leaps and arabesques.

After teaching him how to pirouette, and Callum, without problem and without wobbling, threw a perfect single, Rayla lay down on the floor.

“Are you alright?” He asked, kneeling and poking her shoulder.

“I hate ya!” She exclaimed. “Mr. ‘I’ve never done ballet before in my life but I’m just gonnae show up and be better than dancers who have been performen’ for years!”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s not yer fault.” She said. “Aye, well, let’s take a break for snacks.”

“Don’t you have to train, too?”

“I live above my studio. My formal training hours are just the hours in the business day when I use it. Besides, Ethari asked me the whip ye into shape so that he can start coming down to work lifts.”

“But I can already lift you.”

“There’s a lot more to a Pas de Deux than just lifting. Ya gotta be in shape for competition so that they don’t call ye out on yer turn-out when you’re being my base. Considerin’ how fast yer learnin’, though, it shouldn’t be that long.”

Rayla decided that although Callum was attractive, that didn’t redeem the fact that he was absolutely a fantastic dancer and was humble about it and it was insufferable.

“C’mere,” She said, pulling out her phone and aiming the camera at the mirror.

“You’re taking a selfie?”

“I’m an ambassador for a dance company. I need to post about dance all the time or I’ll get booted from the team.”

“So... you’ve been dancing for a while, then?”

“I’ve been in dance since I could walk. I’m auditioning for companies and Cirque this year, cause even though it’s not the last year I can compete in ABC, most dancers go to company when they’re 18, and I don’t wannae be an old maid for my debut.”

“How old is ‘old maid?’”

“Ya age out of ABC when yer twenty.”

“I’m pretty sure that doesn’t qualify as old.”

“It does in Ballet.” She smiled and snapped a picture.

_ Working on some PDD things with @ _

“Here, give me your insta.” She said, handing him her phone.

_ Working on some PDD things with @callum_creates _

He started talking again as she added hashtags.

“Why did you have to tag me?”

“Because our competition judges ye entirely based on yer social media presence. As it stands, I’d prefer to be off of Instagram entirely, but without sponsorships this whole venture is mad expensive. They pay for a lot of my competitions, and they send me dance gear I couldn’t afford otherwise. Ye should probably apply for a team. I think Sodanca is still accepting applications.”

“I have thirty followers on instagram.”

Rayla clicked on his profile. “It says here ye have six hundred.” She followed him. “And forty... three.”

“No, I don’t.”

“I have five hundred thousand and I just tagged ya in my story. Dancers go batshit for male dancers.”

Callum nodded. “I’m scared to look at my phone.”

Rayla put her hand on his shoulder. “Ye should be. Let’s get back to it.”

  
  
  


_ callum_creates mentioned you in a story _

Rayla raised her eyebrows slightly, clicking on the notification.

It was just her story reposted, and he had added a cute caption about what a great opportunity it’s going to be to work with her.

Rayla smiled, turning over in her bed.

~are you sure you're not gonna quit? Today was rough for you.

-not in a million years!

-dance feels really natural, but I still felt like I was working.

-I’m pure crap at sports? Like anything that requires me to hold, hit, toss or catch a ball is bad.

-and running.

-and I’m bad at school.

-I’m just bad at everything.

-sorry

-it’s like 11 and I’ve just been making your phone buzz non stop.

~dude my phone’s on silent for everyone except Runaan and Ethari, you’re just lucky I have to edit this photo.

-I hope this isn’t an awkward question but why don’t you text with a Scottish accent?

~please inform me how you text in a Scottish accent

-like Scottish twitter

~you’re an idiot.

-how long ago did you move to the states?

~that’s none of your business

Rayla was irrationally annoyed. She rolled over again and plugged her phone back in.

~you’re not my friend yet.

-sorry

-you’re right.

-but, nice positivity on the yet! :D

-I’ll stop now.

-nice chat

~go to sleep or you’ll regret it tomorrow.

-thanks

~do you have severe abandonment issues that prevent you from leaving a text on read?

-yes but that’s none of your business.

-you also keep texting back

-how did you know that my clinginess stems from abandonment issues unless you also have them?

~you were a lot nicer when you were giving me flowers in an alleyway

-it was a rough day

~same here

-are you done editing that photo?

~yes

-it’s almost midnight

~yes

-so we’ve established that neither one of us is gonna let this conversation die

~goodnight, Callum.

-night, Rayla

Rayla liked his message and turned off her phone, leaving it on her desk.

  
  
  


“Hey, Callum!” Zoey Jays called through the buzz of passing period as he shut his locker.

“Zoey,” Callum said, forcing an awkward smile. “Did you need something?”

“I just... I didn’t know you danced Ballet.”

“Oh, yeah, you follow all those dancing accounts, huh.”

“I just can’t believe you’re dancing with Rayla McIntosh. She’s so good.”

“Uh, thanks.” Callum said.

“So do you like, just exclusively dance with Moonshadow studios, or would you be cool doing a pas with another studio?”

“I’m just dancing there.” Callum said slowly. “Sorry.”

“Well, you should definitely try out for our dance team. I know it’s only January and auditions are in May, but still.”

“I’ll think about it.” He lied.

“Callum!” Claudia said, catching him by the elbow.

He was nervous about talking to Zoey because she was possibly literally perfect, had no pores, and everyone liked her. His nervousness about talking to Claudia was a whole different monster.

Zoey waved and headed off down the hall.

“Hey... um, hi!”

“Did you finish the concentration for the week? If all of the AP art students didn’t, I’m saying he can’t fail us all.”

“Sorry, Clauds, but the deed is done.” He held up his sketchbook, tucked into which was his project. “... or, it could stay in my locker for a class period because I support you.”

“You’re the best!” She said, mussing up his hair. “I knew I could count on you!” 

Callum patted the top of his hair back down.

“No problem,” he muttered, feeling the blush in his ears.

Claudia was one of his closest friends. He also had a pretty huge crush on her. And her older brother Soren, who was a graduated high school football star, was his other close friend. Probably because they all grew up together. Callum doubted they’d get along great if they met now, but he still remembered the last time Soren wet the bed at a sleepover, so they were stuck together.

And, unfortunately for his AP studio art grade, he’d still do anything for Claudia.

Fortunately for him, though, he was called down to the counselors before their teacher asked for projects.

“Callum.”

“Opeli.” Callum scratched the back of his head. “Did my dad call you?”

“HIPPA prevents me from telling your father anything you tell to me unless you, or another, is in danger of bodily harm.”

“But it doesn’t prevent him from telling you... what did he tell you this time?”

“Only that you joined Ballet.”

“Then why am I here?”

“I want to talk to you about college.”

Callum groaned and slid from the chair onto the floor.

“You’ve gotten accepted to ISU, CU, SUU, ASU, Washington State, pretty much every good college within a 15 hour drive.”

“Yeah.”

“So... which one?”

“I’m still waiting to hear back.”

“From who?”

“... y’know.”

“Callum, I know I’m your dad’s friend. However, that doesn’t mean that I put his interests above yours.” She set aside her notepad. “I’m gonna be frank with you. Your grades aren’t great. Sure, you got a perfect score on your ACT the first time you took it without studying, but you can’t do homework if your life depended on it, so tell me. If you get into MIT, or Harvard, or Yale- would you go into some sort of artistic degree, or would you go into medicine?”

“Do you think my dad would be okay with medical illustration?”

Opeli sighed, getting up and walking around her desk, looking at Callum on the floor.

“I think you should talk to him about it.”

“I think he told you to say that.” He got up off the floor. “We both know he has a habit of being a textbook dad and then really being disappointed.”

“He’s trying.”

“His parenting techniques come straight from freaking kidshealth.”

“Callum, he’s trying. Also, you need to do your homework in Physics otherwise you won’t graduate.”

“Thanks, Opeli. It’s not like Mr. Dennis has been telling me that for two weeks.”

“That’s all. Unless you have something else to talk about.”

“Can I use your computer to check my email?”

“Legally, I should say no.”

“Please? I’m out of data.”

“Fine.”

Callum flashed her a big smile before rushing to log into his email. No news from the dance companies that he’d applied to be an ambassador for.

“No new acceptance letters?”

“Sorry, Opeli.” He sighed. “Can I go back to class now?”

“Let me sign your slip.”

  
  
  


“I need a minute video of me doing a dance routine in order to qualify to be an ambassador for literally any of these companies.” Callum said as he walked in. “And It has to be a routine, not a minute of me doing tendus at the barre.”

“Alright,” Rayla said hesitantly. “We can make that happen,”

“And the Sodanca application closes in twelve hours. Capizio in two days, and Grishko in a week.”

“First of all, we’re dropping Capizio from that list. The only thing they’re good for is buying tights for outdoor photos because they’ll rip anyways but not even for that because whatever company you work with will dress ye for shoots anyways.”

“Cool.”

“I'll teach ye my routine for my Bloch audition. But first, we work out.”

“I hate those words in that order.”

“Don't be a wimp.”

Callum smiled sarcastically.

He actually didn't hate the workouts- they were structured a lot more like a dance than a gross show of power, which he appreciated, but that doesn't mean they weren't hard.

“Plié, extend. Relevé, and hold, two three four five six seven eight. To coupé, two three four, and passé, and hold. To attitude, watch your point, point, and extend, hold the arabesque, I said... Callum, we can extend this phrase. Engage your back. Make sure ye keep that heel up! Okay, now relax into the ponché.”

“I’m going to cry.”

“If yer talkin, then ye ain’t breathing.”

Callum simply groaned in response.

After the song ended, Callum couldn’t stand properly. “Choreography?”

“Oh, ye wish. Left side.”

She pushed the pace of basics a bit- naturally he remembered everything from last week. Because he was just gifted. That was great. And then she had to go through leaps with him (he had trouble extending, thank god he wasn’t really perfect.) and turns (he could do a triple though, he could go to hell.) and then she taught him the first minute of her Bloch young artist audition.

“I choreographed this with Ethari and Runaan.”

“Can I please have a break?” He asked, taking a second from his water bottle to breathe.

“Twelve hours, Callum? Have you already written your essay?”

He sat up frantically. “There’s a written portion?”

“If you ever want to do something more than make coffee, I think you’ll find that almost everything has a written portion.”

“That’s a low blow. Your part-time job is a ballet teacher. A position you inhabit due to pure nepotism.”

“I can also teach. Ye have learned things, have ye not? Didja ken what a passé was before ye met me?”

“Ok, Rayla-sensei. You are a pretty good teacher. I’m not easy to teach.”

“You’re right, you’re just naturally talented.”

Callum dropped his water bottle and practically fell on top of Rayla. “You think I’m talented?”

Rayla glared at him, nudging his head with her foot as she was stretching at the barre. “Aye.”

He rolled off of her. “Who even is this Runaan person, anyways? You keep on talking about him, but I’ve only ever seen Ethari here.”

“He’s Ethari’s husband, and on paper, he’s me main coach, and me coreographer. He’s in Europe right now doing choreography for some theater in France.”

“Oh.”

“You’ll meet him in March.” She cracked her neck. “That is, if he doesn’t extend the tour, again.” She added it under her breath, and Callum made eye contact with her in the mirror, but he didn’t say anything to her.

Callum couldn’t do every move in the piece- then again, Rayla hadn’t expected him to. Some things, he didn’t have the flexibility for, or were too complex for her to teach, so she just dumbed them down. But she made sure to showcase his center, and his power in jumps.

“This would be a great thing to put on yer Instagram.” She said.

“What? The jump?”

“No, I’m gonnae teach ye a body roll.”

“Will I look ridiculous?”

“Absolutely!”

Callum smiled, and Rayla blushed, just a little bit, as he put his phone against a wall and began to record.

“Head ducks first,” She said, pressing her chin to her chest. “Then ye come up, like ye just went under a bar. And then yer chest follows, and your back and hips, then come and kick to finish out the phrase. It’s a keyhole like the one a while ago.”

“Okay.”

“Can I see it?”

Callum did the body roll- the kick after was executed beautifully, but the body roll had Rayla in fits on the floor.

“What is it?”

“Ya look like a pigeon!”

“I do not-” Callum stopped the video and watched himself. “Okay, maybe... ksssssngergt.”

Rayla struggled between gasps to make out- “what... pffff- what was that noise?”

“Maybe I do look a little like a pigeon.”

“That was a very pigeon body roll.”

“You know what this is? This is proof that you’re a terrible teacher. Because you should be telling me how to fix it, and instead, you’re laughing at me.”

“If ye were wearing that ridiculous scarf, then this would be one of those spot-the-difference games.”

“Suck a brick, Rayla.”

“C’mon, we have eight counts left.”

“Are they easy?”

“It’s the last eight counts of a dance. Yes, they’re easy.”

They were filming it a second time, seeing if they could get a better rep, when Ethari knocked on the glass studio door. Rayla stopped the music. It was dark outside- like, actual night, not Dusk like when Callum should’ve left.

“He’s still here? Rayla, Love, I thought ye were workin on yer solo.”

“We just needed to film him for an ambassador audition.” She said.

“He hasn’t been dancing a week!”

“Just watch him!” She said, beckoning Ethari into the corner with her. “From the top, and we can make sure you extend fully on that arabesque before the roll in the first half.”

Callum gave a pathetic thumbs up.

  
  
  


_ Got some great work done with my adorable Scottish coach and partner @rayla.mcintosh.dances today. Totally didn’t stay at the studio till 10 trying to get this dance done. #dance #contemporary #contemporarydance #bodyrollfails #maledancers _

+Hey, Callum, how long have you been dancing again? I feel like this is new.

Callum’s heartbeat jolted when he saw the message notification. Claudia. And of course he was gushing, just the smallest bit, a tiny bit, about Rayla. And that’s the story she decides to reply to.

-Oh, haha, yeah. I just started last week.

+And you’re already staying till ten? You really go all in for these things, huh.

-Rayla’s an intense teacher.

+she’s pretty cute! Is there an ulterior motive for starting dance? Winky face winky face

-1st of all, I know that you have emojis on your phone. Secondly, it’s just because I want to, and I’m good at it, and I think I deserve to be good at something.

+emojis never mean what I want them too. You know people don’t think that the upside-down smiley is happy? If I’m upside down and smiling I’m definitely happy.

+And callum, let’s be real. You’re good at everything.

-we were in P.E. together at some point, right?

+So football wasn’t your thing. Softball isn’t mine!

-see, the fundamental difference between us my dad was a college football star, and could’ve gotten drafted for the nfl if he hadn’t gone to medical school. Your mom is an accountant.

+your stepdad. It’s not like it’s in your blood.

+Wait, is that why you started dance? To feel closer to Sarai?

Callum looked at the notification at the top of his screen.

Then he dismissed it. He’d let her believe he fell asleep.

He finished the written portion to apply for Sodanca, and copied it in case the other application had a similar question (if it was anything like a college application, they would.

Then, there was a message from Rayla. A red heart emoji.

~damnit

~I always think that’ll just do the “liked message” thing and then it goes and sends the heart.

-you’re right. @instagram fix it

~are you dead?

-I think I am physically incapable of movement, and I don’t want to think about leaving this bed tomorrow.

~ready for Thursday?

-on the condition that I only stay the allotted two hours.

~Yeah, we can do that.

~I’m super sorry I lost track of time.

-it’s okay, I did too.

-And my dad wasn’t on call or anything.

-so yeah.

~I’m betting you wanna go to sleep now?

-more than anything

~goodnight, Callum.

_ @rayla.mcintosh.dances featured your story _

_ Don’t let this dorky video fool you, Callum is a fantastic dancer. I kinda hate him for it. _

  
  
  


Rayla liked Wednesdays. She didn’t teach classes, and she didn’t train. So she woke up at nine and made breakfast for herself and Ethari, who worked from home designing costumes for theaters in New York, when he wasn’t teaching class.

She stretched, posted some bull crap about the açaí bowl that she had made, and said hello to the elderly ladies that occupied their studio for weekday-morning Zumba. She and Callum ended up texting (aren’t you in school? It’s only anatomy, aren’t you in school? I dropped out and got my GED when I was fourteen)

She smiled at her phone, and then started listening to a true crime podcast while she was cleaning her room.

She didn't care too much about true crime, but the man's voice was calming.

It was an hour before they began to talk about the killing of Anne Morrison, and she turned off the podcast. Today was not her day to deal with that.

  
  
  


They managed to have two weeks where they actually stayed within a routine, ish. Callum showed up to practice and learned technique, largely. They worked out a lot, and they stretched.

A  _ lot. _

“Are my feet gonna look like yours one day?”

“Me feet are good for dance. They’re strong and me point is good, which makes me lines good. You’d be lucky to have my feet if you do these exercises every day for a year.”

“I have been doing these exercises every day.”

“And yer point is getting better. And, yer a wee bit more flexible.”

Rayla liked it- she didn’t usually get to teach people in her age range or close to her level. Runaan had insisted that she stay with the pre-pointe classes, usually beginning. She understood why- teaching technique helped hers immensely. But she was definitely more of Callum’s friend than his teacher. By the last week of January, when she walked into the studio to start, Callum was sitting square in his splits.

“Hello,” she said, walking behind him and turning out his back foot. “Where’d this come from?”

“I fell asleep when I was stretching last night, so I can do this split. Not the other one, and I also can’t walk very well.” he swung his leg around to a pike. “also, my dad’s on call today, so I had to bring my little brother.”

“Am I allowed to go into the dance room?” his little brother asked.

“I’ll give you my phone and you can watch Netflix out there.”

“I wanna watch you dance.” Rayla knew of Ezran, naturally, but she'd never seen him. He was shorter than she expected, all of his height coming from a stack of curly hair that added a solid 3 inches.

“I brought you danishes from the cafe. You can't eat in here.”

“I see you and Rayla eat in here on your Instagram all the time.”

“Aye, we eat fruit and yogurt and things that can be easily wiped up, not pastries that'll litter the floor with crumbs.” Rayla interjected. “But ye can watch so long as yer quiet.”

Ezran say quietly in a corner as they danced.

  
  
  


At the end of the month, Callum was good enough, deemed by both Ethari and Rayla, to begin learning their competition Variation from Manon.

Rayla was happy. But she was also scared. And really confused.

Because as angry as she was at Callum and his stupid talent and stupid humility and stupid being a great person- well, he was a great person.

Whether or not he danced well, he was the same kid who ge]ave a stranger a bouquet of flowers because she was crying. Who gave his little brother piggy back rides even though he had just been through 2-3 hours of dance. And he had this stupid smile whenever he got something right-

Rayla refused to catch feelings for her PDD partner. Too cliché. Too stupid.

Besides. She’d only known him a month.

  
  
  


_ I’ve only been dancing for a month, but I love it! Thanks @grishko for seeing the best in me and welcoming me into your team! _

_ #grishkoguy #grishkousa #dance #maledancers #ballet _

Callum hated the idea that he could fall in love with something, and someone, after a month. But 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told y'all it would be long. Might edit notes later when I have time. ❤️


	3. February

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Callum, you start sitting, forward and at the right corner of the stage. Rayla, you’re left of center stage, standing.”
> 
> Callum walked over and sat, but Rayla stayed.
> 
> “Ya mean t’ say we’re starting laying center, didn’ ya?” She said, and Callum kept an eye on her confused face. “We’re doing Swamp, right?”
> 
> “What, ya want t' kill Callum? Even I can’t do the tosses in that movement. He’d drop ye and you’d break an ankle and then you’d die.”
> 
> “So which one are we doing then?” Callum asked hesitantly.
> 
> “Bedroom.” Ethari stated plainly.
> 
> Callum blushed.

When Rayla walked in on the first Tuesday of February, Callum had actually achieved his splits. For real. They weren't comfortable, but both of his legs were straight, and he could sit without his hands for balance.

“Nice,” she said, shoving another bobby pin in her hair. “You're more flexible than Marc ever was. Bone composition, dude, it gets ya.”

They warmed up together at the Barre. They didn't do the exact same exercises to the same songs, but Callum didn't need to watch her. After Adagio and their workout, they stretched, and Ethari came in.

“He’s flexible.” he noted with surprise. Callum smiled, closed mouth and awkward. “We’re working on Manon today. Ye dont mind if we run over a little, do ya Callum?”

“Uh, no.” Callum said.

“Don’t be so scared.” he leaned in and whispered in Callum’s ear. “Rayla got her scary side from Runaan, not me.”

“He’s just trying to catch you with your guard down.” Rayla said. “He's my tech coach and I learned how to teach from him.”

Callum gulped, but he stood up and walked to center floor.

“Callum, you start sitting, forward and at the right corner of the stage. Rayla, you’re left of center stage, standing.”

Callum walked over and sat, but Rayla stayed.

“Ya mean t’ say we’re starting laying center, didn’ ya?” She said, and Callum kept an eye on her confused face. “We’re doing Swamp, right?”

“What, ya want t' kill Callum? Even I can’t do the tosses in that movement. He’d drop ye and you’d break an ankle and then you’d die.”

“So which one are we doing then?” Callum asked hesitantly.

“Bedroom.” Ethari stated plainly.

Callum blushed.

“So tell me about this girl, bro,” Soren said as they were dinking around behind the counter during the slow hours. “She’s been all over your Instagram for a month.”

“I already told you, she’s my dance partner.” Callum sighed, flicking a pen so it spun.

“But she’s cute. And your type.”

Callum had no clue how Soren knew that Rayla was his type, because even he hardly knew what his type was.

“She’s awesome, I don't know what to tell you. But do you think that Claudia would be like...”

“What, jealous? She's just annoyed that you seem to be out of it with the art club.”

Callum switched his legs from a left back tendu to a right. He barely registered doing it anymore.

“Well, it's not like I hang out with her out of practice or anything. We're strictly professional. Like work friends.”

“Work friends who just... Kiss each other. For work.”

“Don’t be a dumbass, I told you that it's only choreography.” Callum said. He raised his back leg to an arabesque. “Customer.”

The man who walked in looked weary, his long flaxy hair piled on top of his head in a bun.

“Thirty-two ounce astronaut, please.” he said.

“The astronaut isn't on the menu anymore.” Sorren said. “Sorry, sir.”

“Do you know how to make it?”

“I do.” Callum said. “It's just that it'll cost the same as a thirty two ounce latte with a bunch of add-ins.”

“Do I look like I care?”

“It'll total to 16.57.” Callum said to Sorren, who was looking at the calculator without plugging anything in.

“Kid,” the customer said while Callum started the espresso machine.

“Hm?” Callum said.

“You could afford to wing your working foot. Not all men are blessed to have your slender ankles, so you should really do your best to accent your lines.”

Callum squinted as the machine squirted dark liquid into the shot glass.

“Sorry, I didn't get a name for that.” Callum said.

“Runaan.” the man said.

“Ah.” Callum breathed to himself. Of course he looked familiar, he was in the family portrait at the landing of Rayla's stairs. 

“Ashamed that my first impression of ye was ye practicing in khakis and tennis shoes?”

“It's actually a blessing, you can't see how bad my form really is.” Callum joked, but it fell flat.

Rayla would have laughed.

“I thought you weren't coming back for another two weeks.” he was supposed to be back a week before their first competition. Because he was technically their main coach, and they couldn't dance without him, they had already missed the one that was going on today. And they would miss the one in two weeks, because they still wouldn't be ready, and their costumes were still being made, and Callum still didn't know what half of the things were that were being said while they were learning.

Runaan put a finger to his lips sneakily. “It’s a surprise. So don't you dare text my daughter and tell her I'm back.”

“Cross my heart.” Callum said.

Rayla was alone in the studio when she heard the door open.

It was night, and she was cooling down, stretching with nothing but the light of the street lamps outside. She felt the cold rush of air travel over her a second after the sound had vanished.

She looked into the dark lobby.

Was that the silhouette of a man or just the coat rack.

Her heart started to pound. She tried to call hello, but it got stuck in her throat.

A block away, a dog was barking.

A floorboard creaked, and Rayla scooted over to her bag and took the scissors from the front pocket.

“Who's there?” she called. No one answered. She stood up slowly, and the clat from the box of her pointe shoes sounded ominous.

She paused at the door of the studio. “Hello?” she called again.

Nothing.

She took a step out, and someone grabbed her from behind.

She swung the scissors back and they made contact, stabbing through flesh at full force.

Her assaulter immediately let go, yelling, and she hit the lightswitch.

“Runaan?!” she shouted, wholly alarmed to see her father on the ground, holding his leg, where her yellow sewing scissors were plunged in up to the handle.

“I just wanted to surprise ye.” he groaned. Blood was pooling at an alarming (because any blood pooling is alarming) yet not awfully fast rate.

“I am. So. Sorry.” Rayla said. “I'm gonna go wake up Ethari and we'll drive ye to the emergency room.” She looked around, trying to find something to help. “Just don't, like, take it out or anything. I'll be right back.”

She jolted up the stairs, busting into her fathers' room. “Runaan is back and I stabbed him in the leg.” she blurted as Ethari turned on the bedside light.

“What?” Ethari asked, drowsily getting up.

“Come on, I need ye to drive us to the hospital.” She said, pulling him up.

“Honey, I've had three glasses of wine. I can't drive ye."

“Aye, I'll drive then, just help me lift 'im into the car.” she said.

Ethari apparently didn't seem to appreciate the gravitas of the situation. He was half asleep and tipsy. He followed her down the stairs in his slippers.

“Get him up,” Rayla said, still panicking. Ethari lifted his husband, who groaned as his leg moved. They got into the garage and Rayla fumbled with the keys.

“Siri, take me to the fucking hospital!” she said.

“Calculating route to the Farmton hospital. Estimated time is three hours and seventeen minutes.”

“Not Farmton, ya daft nit,” She said. “Siri, take me to the Emergency room.”

“Calculating route. 10 minutes.” Take a left onto Moonforest drive.

Rayla didn't drive a lot. Her hands were shaky on the wheel.

“Make sure you don't drift right.” Ethari said.

“You have a stab wound, why are you judging my driving?” she said. She ran a stop sign.

The emergency room was fairly crowded. Rayla rushed up to the desk where a disenfranchised girl slid a clipboard to her.

“Sign in.” she said. “What's the nature of injury?”

“My dad got stabbed. With scissors.”

“How deep?”

“I don't know, three inches?”

“Name?”

“McIntosh. My name's Rayla. He's Runaan.”

“A doctor will be out shortly. Please fill out your insurance information.”

Rayla took a pen and filled out the forms. A doctor came out and called for Runaan.

“I'm doctor Harrow Katolis.” the doctor said, shaking her hand. “I think you should stay out here. The husband can come with me.”

Rayla nodded, stepping back. She stumbled over to sit in a chair.

She was still wearing her pointe shoes and hadn't even put pants on over her tights. Who could she even call? She didn't know anyone well enough to ask, it's not like she had close friends.

Except...

Callum picked up after the second ring.

“Hey Rayla, what's up?”

“I'm at the emergency room.” she said.

“Oh my God, are you okay?”

“Yeah I'm... I'm fine. I stabbed my dad with some scissors.”

“Okay.” Callum said. “Soren and I are just closing up, do you need me to do something?”

“Yeah, I'm still in my dance clothes. Could you drive to the studio and bring me some clothes and shoes?”

“Sure. Do you need anything else? I can get you some food, do you need your insurance card?”

“Yeah. Yeah that all sounds great.”

“Please tell me your door has your name on it so I don't just doink around your apartment.”

“It's the loft. My wallet's in my dance bag in the studio, though.”

“Yeah, it's no issue.” Callum said. “Deep breaths, and I'll see you in like, twenty minutes, okay?”

“Thank you.” she said.

“Soren, I have to go early.” Callum said, stripping his apron off. “My friend's having a crisis. Like, a legit in the hospital crisis.”

“Is it that Rayla girl?”

Callum rolled his eyes. “Yes, it's Rayla.”

“Yeah, don't mind me, I'll just keep your share of the tips.”

“I get thirty-seven.” Callum said. “I already counted.”

“You're lucky you're not crazy, you would get bullied so bad.”

Callum took his share from the tip jar and headed out to his car. He texted their babysitter for Ezran telling her he'd be back late, so put Ez to bed in an hour.

There was blood on the studio floor, and the door was unlocked. Callum stepped around the puddle of blood and took Rayla's wallet from her dance bag. 

He had never been upstairs before. The apartment was sheek and modern, all light colors and Ikea. Callum found the little spiral staircase that led to the loft.

He laughed. Rayla was  _ spoiled. _ Her bed was a queen, fluffy black comforter. Big desk, fancy laptop. Clothes were strewn around, but few enough that it didn't look messy. Callum puffed out his cheeks with a big sigh.

It definitely felt like he was invading her privacy. Crossing his fingers on one hand that he wouldn't be opening the underwear drawer, he opened one of her dresser drawers. He got the shirt on top, and found jeans in the one below it.

~Hey, Callum, I need you to get a bra too, top drawer.

-you seriously owe me.

He didn't look. He just grabbed one. Then socks, and shoes.

She had succulents and hanging plants next to dance trophy's and ribbons and medals. What a perfect, instagrammable life.

He drove through a Wendy's on his way to a hospital. Got a ten piece chicken nugget and a frosty.

Rayla looked beyond stressed. She had blood on her tights.

“Here.” he said, handing her the clothes first, and then the to go bag.

“Thanks.” she said. “I'm sorry to bother you.”

“It's no biggie.” He said.

“I'm gonna go get changed.” She said. “I'll explain.”

Callum settled into the seat.

“Your dad's with a patient right now.” Gloria, at the desk said. “I'll page him and tell him you're here, though.”

“It's fine, Gloria.” Callum said. “I was just dropping something off.”

Rayla came back out in a minute, flopping into the chair next to Callum. She started eating the chicken nuggets and slowly, tears welled up and rolled down her face. She sobbed, putting a spoonful of chocolate frosty in her mouth.

Callum put his hand on her shoulder.

“It's the first time I've seen Runaan in months and I stabbed him.”

“What even happened?”

“He snuck up on me in the studio. I thought he was someone breaking in.”

“It's not your fault.”

“Is too.”

She leaned her head on his chest and ate the rest of her chicken nuggets in silence.

Callum had almost fallen asleep when Rayla moved.

“Doctor Katolis.”

_ Oh my God, did my dad treat them? _

“He's doing fine, sweetie.” his dad said. “Callum, what are you doing here?”

Callum opened his eyes lazily. “Rayla called me. I was just bringing her some stuff.”

Rayla looked between the two of them.

“This is my step-dad.” Callum said. “Dad, this is Rayla. I dance with her.”

“Nice to meet you,” his dad said, shaking her hand. “Your dads are ready to see you now. You're lucky you're not in trouble for stabbing him.”

Rayla laughed.

“Callum, you should go home now. We're gonna have to pay the babysitter overtime.”

“Yeah.” Callum said. “See you tomorrow, then, Rayla?”

Rayla nodded, hugging him tightly before following his step dad back to the patient rooms.

Callum went home.

“Hi.” Callum said, walking into the studio timidly. Runaan was sitting on a chair in the corner of the studio. “How's the leg?”

“Your dad fixed me up right.” Callum nodded.

First of all, Rayla was totally not watching him in the mirror as he used pomade to card his hair out of his face.

Second of all, she had definitely gotten over her stupid 2 second attraction for him and things weren't different after last night. She wasn't thinking about how he dropped everything to come bring her clothes and chicken nuggets, or how, when all she had asked for was the things, he stayed with her until she could be sure Runaan was alright.

Third of all, she wasn't thinking about how this was the second time that he had comforted her while she cried.

He went to the barre behind her, and she could smell his pomade. She looked straight ahead.

They practically flew through their Barre and center floor, so that Runaan could get to the meat of their issues- the choreography. They were almost done with it, but Rayla had seen the videos. They looked stiff and blocky and nothing was working out right. Their synchronized parts weren't together.

And they hadn't kissed yet.

Manon was a ballet created around pas de deux. The two performers required an insane amount of trust and stamina- which is why there were several partners that Manon went on with. The bedroom scene was infamous for it's difficult lifts and also, the passionate kiss about halfway through it.

They had not practiced that particular element.

As they ran through it for the first time, Runaan stopped them before they even got to it.

“Okay, good form, the both of ye. Practice is over.”

“What? We didn't even finish!” Callum protested.

“I've seen everything I need to.” Runaan said. “Callum, you're a good enough dancer for this piece, which really does speak to not only your talent but my husband's and daughter's teaching skill. And Rayla, it's well within your range, too. But, your performance is awful.”

Rayla pursed her lips.

“Ballet is an act. It's theater just as much as it is dance. You need to know each well enough to act as intimately as these two lovers.”

Rayla hoped her face wasn't as hot as it felt.

“So, I'm adjourning practice early, on the condition that ye hang out together. Get to know each other. I dinnae care if Rayla trusts ye enough to lift her above yer head, I need the two of you t' act like yer in love.”

Rayla couldn't look at him.

“What are ye waiting for? Go get changed.”

They both bolted.

Rayla stood in her room, contimplating two different sweaters. She was already embarrassed by the fact that she asked Callum to not only break into her house, but also get underwear for her. What had she been thinking? And her room wasn't even clean.

“Rayla?” Callum called from her living room, “not to rush you or anything, but it's kinda been like ten minutes.”

Rayla chose the green sweater and went to the railing. “Yeah, I'll be right down.”

Callum smiled and gave her a thumbs up.

Her heart totally did not skip a beat.

She brushed her hair quickly and violently, and then it looked puffy so she tried to braid it, but it looked stupid and uneven, so she took it out.

“Can I come up?” Callum asked. “I'm worried Ethari is gonna come out and have a protective dad talk with me.”

“Um, no, you can't.” she said, before putting some hair oil on her hands and trying to calm it down. It didn't work.

“Well, what do you want to do?” He asked. “like, we could go get food or something? I don't really want to spend money though. I bet my dad has some sort of homemade good though.”

“Your dad bakes? And he's a doctor? You have it made.”

“You live in an Ikea display room.”

“My dads are gay and studied ballet in Europe. They have taste.”

She put on her shoes and went downstairs.

Holy shit, Callum was standing in her living room, just wearing normal clothes and his hair halfway mussed up because he liked it better in his face, but it was back for dance.

“Let's just go to my house and then we can go from there.” he said. “I only live like three blocks away.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I told you I come here cause it's close.” he wasn't looking at her, scratching the back of his neck.

_ It's just a crush, Rayla. A stupid crush that you'll regret if he ever finds out about who you really are. _

He drove a dinky hatchback student car, it was dark blue, and had obviously been through a few scrapes. He had to reach across the seat to unlock her door because the automatic lock system didn't work.

It smelled like pine air freshener.

He was a much better driver than Rayla was. He was composed, and sung along to Selena Gomez on the radio.

His house was a big, built at the turn of the century. There were two big trees in the front- one of them had a rope swing and the other one had a treehouse.

“My mom flipped houses.” Callum said. “She bought this one when I was six. And then she met my step-dad.”

“So she stopped flipping houses?” Rayla asked. “What does she do now?”

Callum bit his bottom lip. “Nothing much.”

“Is she home?”

“No.” Callum said. “She's... She's dead.”

“I'm sorry. God, Callum, if I'd known-”

“It's okay. It was a couple years ago. Besides, you're like an orphan or something, cause you're adopted, right? I bet your story's worse than mine.”

Her story  _ was _ worse than his. But she wasn't exactly going to be forthcoming with that information. “Not exactly.” she said. “Runaan and Ethari have been raising me ever since I was a toddler, so I'm not really that traumatized or anything.” 

He turned of the car and she followed him in. The house was all dark wood inside, green and red stained glass.

“My step dad paid off the mortgage after my mom died.” he said. “It was her last project.”

“It's beautiful.”

“Yeah. Take off your shoes.”

Rayla was still, even after having lived in the states for ten years, surprised by the space that most Americans had in their houses. The kitchen was the size of her living room.

“There's some pie and jelly tarts,” Callum said, inspecting the fridge. “You want any?”

“Sure.”

“And ice cream?”

“Duh.” she said. “Shouldn’t Ezran be home?”

“No, he has fencing on Thursdays right after school. I usually pick him up after Ballet.”

Bait could be heard coming down the stairs.

“Come here, Bait!” Callum called, taking the half eaten pie and ice cream out. The sound of his claws on the floor sped up as he headed to the kitchen.

“Allo, ya wee bastard,” she said, scratching him on his ears. “Aren't ye just the damn cutest thing in this house.” the French bulldog wagged his whole body in excitement.

Callum gave the dog a piece of crust after he performed a few tricks for them. Callum's dad was an excellent Baker, even several days in seran wrap in the fridge. Pie and ice cream in hand, Rayla wandered the living area.

She noticed two things: there was a lot of art, and the house was not very clean.

“It's a house with three boys and a dog.” Callum said kicking something Bait had shredded under the couch. “Our dad's always at work, and I'm always at work or at school, and Ez has no clue how to clean.”

“Both my dads are like, obsessive compulsive about keeping the house clean. But considering we all live and work from home, that makes sense.” she paused in front of a photo of a ballet dancer. She was Asian, and the dance was obviously a modern one, her costume a simple black slip. Her legs were bare and her pointes were pancaked. Her neck was long, her fingers relaxed. She was gorgeous.

“Who is it?” she asked Callum reverently.

“My mom.” he said, not looking at her. “In college. She majored in interior design, but minored in Dance. She quit when she had me.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Callum said. He sighed and kept moving. Rayla inspected the art on the walls.

“Is any of it your's?” she asked.

“The big portrait in the middle.” It was a self-portrait, a big collage of newspaper and cardstock and painted with guache.

“Do ya have more art I could see?” she asked excitedly, forgetting that she was supposed to not act like she had the biggest crush on him in the world.

“Yeah, in my room. Do you want to come up?”

That was not a safe thing for her to do.

“Aye.” she said.

Callum's room was ridiculously punk rock. Band posters and half finished artwork plastered the walls, and the red curtains made the room dark and small. His bed looked like it was probably too short for him, a twin bed shoved into a corner.

He scrambled to shove some clothes under his bed or into his hamper.

“I got to decorate it right after my mom died. Harrow thought it was best he let me grieve in my own terms. He should not have given me free range with the color pallet.”

A desk in the corner was littered with sketchbooks and pencils and paints. Some of the big, half-done things on his walls were messy and painted, but the drawings on the desks were all simple line studies.

“This is incredible.” she said, flipping through them.

“Thanks.”

“Are ya planning on going into art?”

“My step-dad wants me to go into STEM.”

“Well, that's not what ya want, is it?”

“I don't know.” Callum sat heavily in his chair. “I don't even know if I want to draw anymore. I don't know if I want to go to Harvard, or Yale, I don't know if I want to be a doctor. Or a lawyer, or whatever white-collar 9-5 is acceptable for me. You have no idea how easy you have it, knowing what you want to do and being so focused on it.”

Rayla kept flipping through the books. “We all struggle with things like that, Callum. It's part of growing up.”

“You're such a mystery, you know that?” Callum said. “You dance. You've been living in the states for like, ten years, and you still have an accent. We've been partners for nearly two months, and I still feel like I know nothing about you.”

Rayla closed the book and turned back around. “Most people don't like me once they get to know me.”

“I think if you genuinely think that, it's because of self-sabotage. You're not an awful person, Rayla.”

“Ya just said ye don't know anything about me.”

“I know you're a good person.”

“Not as good as ye are.”

Okay, Callum needed to make it abundantly clear that he had gotten over his crush on Rayla.

100% of the way was over it. Which is why it was good that she didn't find the sketchbook of dancing studies he had done with her as the subject.

And it was like, great, that they were talking about his mom and how insecure he was. And how insecure she was.

And it was really helping his case that they ended up laying on his bed, looking at the ceiling while cathartically screaming green day and MCR.

And it was totally smart not to change the subject when she brought up the kissing.

“I just think it's really awkward for me, personally, to practice kissing in front of my dads, and you just know that they're gonna ask us to put more emotions into it or whatever, and I can not deal with that. Like I literally can't.”

“Okay, yeah, but we're gonna get out on stage and just, what, press our mouths together for however many counts? Will that get us docked points?”

“Probably will hurt our artistry score, yeah.”

“Well, have you ever kissed anyone?” Callum asked, kicking himself because he definitely didn't want the answer to that. Rayla spasmed slightly.

“Of course I have!” she said, a little too loud. “Have you?”

“Yeah. Duh.” he said.  _ Lie. _

“Well then, it won't be a problem, because we both know how to kiss, and we can just go with it once we get to it.”

They sat in blushing silence for one, two, three seconds before both blurting out: “I lied,” at the exact same time.

Rayla groaned, slipping from the bed to the floor. “So we like, need to practice it, right?”

“Yeah. At least we know, like, what our hands do. That's like a number one question, right?” Callum mentioned.

“And we know how long it needs to be, that's another one.” Rayla said. “We don't need ground rules then, do we?”

“Do we?”

“No.” Callum said. “it's just the kiss in the ballet, so we don't.”

“No tongue.” Rayla said. Callum's face went hotter than before.

“Duh. Of course. Did you have to say that?”

Callum played the music and they marked the choreography in his room and they came together and stopped.

The music played on.

Callum was caught like a fly in her gaze. Her eyes were this color, a light light blue next to her pupil and dark at the rim. She had freckles, barely darker than her pale skin, spattered across her face like spray paint.

They didn't move. They were so close. Noses brushing.

Callum felt like his entire heart had found its way into his throat.

He was totally over that stupid crush.

“Why in God's name did they choose this one?” she said.

Callum was  _ so, so _ glad they did. That was creepy. Was that creepy? God, he couldn't believe he was hiding behind an excuse to kiss her, he should just say that he liked-

“Callum, I saw your car, aren't you at dance?” His dad called from downstairs.

“We can do it later.” he said, letting go of her. “Yeah, I'm here!” he shouted.

He ran his hand through his hair, trying to calm his really rebellious heart.

Callum opened the door and started downstairs. Rayla followed him quietly.

“Hello there, McIntosh, right?” his step-dad said. “No further problems with your dad, right?”

“He's fine.” Rayla said. “A little out of it between jet lag and pain meds. But fine.”

“Well, I'm not sure Callum should be hanging out with a girl who put a pair of scissors three inches into her dad's leg.” Rayla flinched.

“Dad.” Callum said.

“I'm just kidding,” he said with a laugh. “I'm sure she's a darling girl. You know my wife danced Ballet?”

“Yeah,” she said. She was quiet. It was like she was a different person.

“We're gonna go out.” Callum said.

“Be responsible.”

_ I don't have a valentine, but I have a PDD partner @rayla.mcintosh.dances and she's just as good. _

Callum had posted a pic of the two of them pigging out on a 13 dollar chocolate box in the dance studio.

Rayla took a screenshot.

The next week, they decided to hang out on Monday, because it was president's day, so Rayla didn't teach any classes and Callum didn't have school. They had two weeks before their first competition. They'd finished learning the choreo, but still had not kissed. Rayla couldn't believe that Callum, who'd been dancing for all of two months, could do one of the most difficult pdd variations ever, and she, who had been dancing her whole life, were having trouble with what should arguably be the easiest part of the entire dance.

“Hey, can you take our picture?” Rayla asked a passerby on the dock. She shoved her phone at him.

“Sure?” the guy said.

Callum tossed her up and held her above his head while the guy took their picture.

“Thanks,” Rayla said, taking her phone back. “Do you want me to tag you? It's an Instagram challenge.”

“It's fine.” the guy said.

The docks didn't close during the winter, even though it was cold enough that no one really came that often. The vendors remained inside the little carousel mall, and the rides only opened for special events.

Still, there was a decent amount of people around for the holiday, so the games were open. Rayla won Callum an otter plushie as big as he was. Callum won her nothing, because his aim was pure shite. But he did buy her ice cream, so she forgave him.

The entire point of the outing was an Instagram challenge they'd both been told to do by their respective dancewear companies. Photos in candid places by candid people. They'd each gotten a few, and a couple together. Callum was getting tired, and so was Rayla, even if she wouldn't admit it. So they changed and went to get food.

Apparently their performance had been getting better. Probably because Rayla's crush was more on the forefront of her mind. How could it not be? They spent hours together at practice, and even more outside of practice, just hanging out, and then they texted constantly. It was impossible to get over.

And she was pretty sure Callum was impossible to get over, too. It should be illegal for a boy to be that sensitive, good at dancing, and funny. He was literally perfect.

They ended up practicing unofficially in the studio. Rayla's dads weren't there to judge. It was freeing.

They didn't go full out on the lifts, because Callum had been lifting her all day.

“I'm good to try this time?" Callum asked.

_ It would be nicer if he didn't sound so repulsed by it. _ She thought.

_ You should be professional _ . She reminded herself.

Kissing was not all it was cracked up to be.

“It only has to look okay.” she said.

“One more run before I go to work?”

Kissing gets better the more you do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm late here you go I might update this chapter with more but I'm pretty sure this is all for February.
> 
> Also, check out my original story on Wattpad lmao it's why this stupid fic takes so long to update. https://my.w.tt/j1mjAaxO03
> 
> This is the pdd they do https://youtu.be/pyAdb6xTel8
> 
> Anyways love you guys thx for being patient 😘


	4. March

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh, you mean you don't know? Rayla will stab you in the back in order to save her own skin. Sometimes literally.”
> 
> “I don't think you know what you're talking about.” Callum said. His shoulders tensed like he was prepping for a fight.
> 
> Rayla put her hand on his. “Leave it.” she said.
> 
> He made eye contact with her and she pleaded silently.
> 
> “I'm just saying, maybe you should Google the person who you spend all of your time with.” Maia said, turning to her menu.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is like 8,000 words thx quarantine, Corona doesn't exist in this world thx
> 
> Oh and also tw for mentions of rape, nothing is explicitly talked about but just be warned, it's the section where Callum and Rayla go on a walk after practice, but it is also essential to the story so yuh

“Idaho is the worst state in the world.” Rayla said.

“But they make potatoes-”

“No. No one cares about stupid potatoes. There's literally nothing here. Ohio is the only one that's worse.”

“I was born in Ohio!”

“And I genuinely could not be more sorry.” Rayla said. “We don't even go out there this year, ABC is in Salt Lake.”

Rayla was doing her makeup, and Callum was writing an essay in the back of the McIntosh's car. They were wearing the Moonshadow studios warm ups. Their legs were intangled in the middle of the seat. 

“Are ya even getting anything done?” she asked him.

“No thanks to you.”

“Why do ye even care about your grades anyway? I thought ye already got accepted into college.”

“I need to maintain my GPA for merit scholarships. And I haven't gotten into any good colleges yet.”

“I thought you got into Berkeley.”

“But I'm waitlisted for Stanford.”

“Are you saying Berkeley isn't good?”

“My step-dad went to Harvard medical school after attending Duke for his undergrad. Literally Oxford is the only thing that would impress him. Cambridge.”

“And none of the ones you've gotten into are adequate?”

“Nope,” Callum said.

“Yer dad sucks.”

“That man saved my life.” Ethari said from the front seat.

“And he's a wonderful man, and he's so cultured, and you would absolutely love to have dinner with him weekly, we all know.” Rayla said, rolling her eyes.

The dinner had been a disaster. But who cared.

Rayla turned around and leaned against Callum. He lifted up his arm so that she could lay on his lap. Her freckles were totally masked by the foundation she had on. 

He squinted at the screen, because his doc was saying that his grammar was wrong, but that was definitely the way he wanted to phrase that.

“You're gonnae come watch me first performance, aye?”

“Of course.” Callum said, flicking her nose. She flinched and swatted his hand off.

Rayla was putting on her makeup for her first event, a variation from sleeping beauty, which she'd have to go into warm up for the second they got to the competition site. She would warm up with Runaan while Ethari stretched and did makeup with Callum.

His stomach was tight and anxious.

And he was realizing that he had literally never performed anything in front of anyone ever. His art was always something he could hide behind. Words in his artist statement. An artistic photo that didn't really show his face. Arguably the entire performance that he had to put on literally every day for Instagram should prepare him. It didn't.

The competition was at a convention center in Boise. They found their parking spot and Rayla grabbed her costume bag and ran, leaving Ethari with Callum.

They checked in casually, and the lady checking them in read his name, twice.

“Callum Chen?”

“Yes,” he said again.

“You look like... Are you related to Sarai Chen by chance?”

“She's my mom.” Callum said, taking his packet from her.

“I danced with her in college. What's she up to now, is she here?”

“She died nine years ago.” Callum said.

The lady stopped talking, crestfallen. Ethari pushed him through the line. By the time the lady said- “Well, say hi to your dad for me,” there was no making his way back to her.

The competition was the busiest thing Callum had ever seen in his life. Girls half his size were wandering around in full hair and makeup. A boy his age did a tilt-jump that was both impossibly high and extended. Ethari pulled him by the wrist to a hall where dancers were spread out, doing makeup and hair.

“Are ya nervous?” he asked.

“Yeah.” he said. “I'm gonna let you down, and Runaan, and Rayla-”

“If ye say yer gonnae, then ya will. Calm down. Sit still.” Callum froze while Ethari started to spread foundation on his face.

“Wow, so the rumors are true, McIntosh does have a new partner.” Callum heard someone sneer. Ethari squeezed Callum's jaw so that he couldn't look over. “I didn't think anyone would want to dance with her.”

“Don't look at them. Don't even awknowledge it.” he said. “There are some pretty nasty rumors in the circuit about Rayla. I think you know her well enough to know that none of them are true. People just don't like her because she wins.”

By the time it was time for them to leave to watch Rayla perform, Callum didn't recognize who he saw in the mirror. His red cheeks were caked in foundation and instead of looking a little like a tomato, there was a high blush on his cheeks. His eyes looked deep and brooding, which was arguably the character. More emotions than he thought brown eye shadow, eyeliner and mascara could give him.

They sat in the best seat they could find.

Rayla looked classic on stage. Her costume was a typical cream leo and tutu, the ribbing adding enough structure that it didn't look modern. There were a few black rhinestones on the collar that matched ones in her hair.

She was beautiful. Callum was transfixed by the lines of her neck, the gentle curve of her hands.

Her routine was flawless. Nothing hesitated, not a second off balance. Her face shone and two small rhinestones on the outer corner of each eye looked like tears.

“She's perfect.” Callum said.

“I've never seen her perform this well. Ethari whispered. “Don't tell her I said this, but I think you make her a better dancer.”

“How can I make her a better dancer? She's the only reason I'm a halfway decent dancer at all.”

“You'll understand when you've been dancing for longer.”

Rayla leaped.

They found Rayla after she got off. She was beaming, sweat running down her neck but her face was dry thanks to the intense setting spray they were using.

“That was so good!” Callum said, hugging her.

“I can't believe I landed those balances on pointe.” she said.

“Your leap was fantastic.” Ethari said. “Way past flat.” She was shaking.

“How long do we have before we warm up for Manon?”

“Two hours. We should go eat now, so that you guys have time to digest before you go on.”

They ended up splitting up, because of a disagreement about which would be better- Pho or Korean barbeque. He and Rayla ended up in a corner of the Pho place, which was bustling with other dancers.

“Rayla, how are you?” Maia said, being sat at the table next to them. Rayla's skin prickled.

“Good.” she said, focusing on the menu.

“So this is your new Pas partner?”

“Hi, Maia.” Callum said with a smile.

“Oh my gosh, You're that cute barista from forever ago.” Maia gushed. “It figures that she'd have to recruit someone to dance with her.”

Rayla pursed her lips and really tried to look like she was trying to decide between steak or the dumpling pho.

Callum, bless his heart, could not read the situation.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Oh, you mean you don't know? Rayla will stab you in the back in order to save her own skin. Sometimes literally.”

“I don't think you know what you're talking about.” Callum said. His shoulders tensed like he was prepping for a fight.

Rayla put her hand on his. “Leave it.” she said.

He made eye contact with her and she pleaded silently.

“I'm just saying, maybe you should Google the person who you spend all of your time with.” Maia said, turning to her menu.

“Jesus, weren't the two of you friends?”

“Operative word being were.” Rayla said.

“What are they even talking about? I can't go anywhere without someone telling me to watch out for you.”

“They're right, I haven't exactly been an upstanding trustworthy person.”

“I don't know what world you've been living in, because I'd trust you with my life.”

“I'm being serious.” she said.

“So am I!” he said. “You're like, probably my best friend. I lo-”

“Sorry, but Can I take your order?”

Callum sat back, blushing. After they ordered, Rayla spoke before Callum had a chance to.

“Look, God knows you're my best friend. And it's not just because you're my only friend. But you don't know enough about me to-”

“What, I don't know that you love teaching kids how to dance, even if they're too little to pay attention, and you have to wipe their snot off the Barre after? Or that you like listening to classic punk? That your favorite color is green?”

“Ye don't know about my past!”

“Then tell me!” Callum pleaded.

“Ye are... The one part of my life that doesn't make me think about my past. And I don't know how I'll escape if I don't have that.”

“Are you saying I can't help?”

“Everyone always tries to _help_ , Callum, and it never _helps_. It always just leads to them hating me. I can't go through that again.”

Callum grabbed her hand, squeezing hard. “Okay.” he said.

“Really?” she asked.

“Really.” he said.

They got changed and waited in the hall by their stuff listening to the music, marking it.

Their warm-up was vaguely uneventful.

“Callum, maybe you should shorten it to a double.” Ethari said.

“I can do the quad.” Callum said, shaking his head and throwing the turn again. He had to rest back onto his full foot halfway through the last rotation.

“If you can't get the last one in, just stop to the front.”

“I can throw it.” Callum insisted. Butterflies were sitting awkwardly in his stomach.

The girl who was in charge of their time waved them out of the room.

Their numbers got called.

Rayla smiled and waved to the camera that was focused on them backstage. Callum couldn't look at it.

The stage lights were bright, and he couldn't see the audience. That made it easier, because it was just the stage, in a sea of black. Just him on the stage, and Rayla.

He sat in the prop chair.

People clapping was just part of the track. It sounded indistinct.

The music started, and he focused on the imaginary quill in his hand. He heard Rayla come up behind him, and she mimed throwing the quill away. He made eye contact with her.

 _Come on,_ she mouthed, leading him away from the chair. He followed her across the stage, now so unaware of the fact that this was even a routine he had memorized. It just felt natural, normal. His body was talking over.

He took Rayla's hand, and she spun in, tauntingly close to his face. Their noses brushed and she spun out again. They did the spin sequence. The stage lights were hot.

“You've got this,” she whispered to him as they swayed softly and she hugged him. Her hands traced down his back as the choreography called for.

He could not lose his composure. Not onstage.

The music picked up, and Callum held his hand out, looking towards Rayla. She smiled, taking it, going through the spin sequence flawlessly. Callum had to remind himself at the end of each combination to look up, like he was supposed to, because she looked too good onstage.

It was never like this in practice. What was it? Her hair all loose like a cloud around her face? The makeup and the shine of the stage lights?

She was a goddess.

He took a deep breath before going through his spin combo. His muscles took over, from hours of practice in the studio and at home.

Did the energy always feel like this? Was it just because they had practiced it so many times that he knew exactly where Rayla was, exactly how to hold her waist as she dropped into the ponché?

She walked away from him, looking giddy like he felt.

Thank God it was choreography that he couldn't take his eyes off her.

She ran back to him, and he went to her, as he was supposed to, and he held the back of her neck as she slid down. He ran his hands down her sides.

 _Don't make it weird, dude,_ he told himself, coming back to her face. _Is this all just choreography to her? Is it just an act?_

Her arms looped around his neck and they hugged on the floor.

“Time to kill it.” she whispered. Time for lifts.

She rose, Callum still on his knees, and he felt proper there, worshipping her. She grunted as he lifted her onto his shoulder. It wasn't their smoothest work.

He stood, holding her for the time allotted, then dropping her into his arms. One of her legs slipped, but he caught it. Then let her down.

“Nervous?” he asked her.

“Callum, I-” she started, but she started too late, his hand was already on her cheek-

- _as was choreographed-_

And they were both so close-

_-as was choreographed-_

And their lips met-

 _-as was choreographed-_

And they kissed.

They really kissed.

There was a tongue, a bite, his hand, her hand-

_Was this choreographed-_

And it was over. She ran away, smiling wide, and he was starstruck.

He had to focus. The upcoming spin sequence was the hardest. The arabesque he led her through was fine, as always, but in the finger spins she slipped not once, but twice, and thank God she had such a center, otherwise they would've been a few spins short.

After that went by fast, like always, movements and hands that his body remembered even if his brain didn't.

He lifted her up, and he didn't know how, but the next thing he could recall, they were hugging on the floor as the music faded. She pulled him up, and they bowed, and exited.

“My God!” she exclaimed when they were back in the hall. “I cannae believe da-” she was talking in super fast Scots that Callum was too out of it to follow.

“So, were ye just holdin' out the quint to pull one over on us, Cal?”

Callum blinked, brought back into reality as he looked at Ethari.

“Pardon?” he said.

“The quint? You did five turns on that attitude. Didn't even fall from relevé.”

“Oh.” Callum stated. He didn't remember that.

“I wasn't sure the two of you were going to be able to pull that off-” Runaan started, but Maia interrupted from behind.

“Wow, Callum, you did great out there.” she said. “You could join an actual studio.”

“Ignore them.” Ethari reminded.

Callum really didn't want to.

“I saw the scores from this morning.” he said. “Rayla won and you didn't even make the top ten. Are you sure you aren't just bitter?”

“Callum, I don't need ye fightin me battles for me.” Rayla said, putting a hand on his arm.

“No, let him talk.” the boy next to Maia said. “He's so convinced his little girlfriend is the best dancer he could be with.”

“She's not-” Callum started, but the boy talked over him.

“You really have potential, but it's obvious from the piece you picked and how you danced that you're just all emotion. If you joined Neo-dance, then I could see you as an actual competitor. Right now you're just padding the numbers that we're on top of.”

“Sorry, but who even are you?”

“Kasef.” the boy said, extending his hand. Callum looked at it, but didn't take it.

“Rude. That's cool, that's fine. But dancing with Rayla McIntosh hasn't made you any friends here, dude, so I'd be careful of the image you're giving off.”

“I joined ballet for fun.” Callum said. “I'm not here to win.”

“Well, tell you what,” Maia said. “Rayla certainly is. So make sure you're on the same page about that _before_ you get on stage.”

“We're going.” Rayla said, taking his hand and dragging him away.

God _fucking_ knows why they were letting Rayla and Callum share a hotel room.

The hotel rooms were joined.

The connecting door was open. For now. They would probably close it so that her dads could have steamy make-out sexy times.

(Ew.)

There was only one bed.

Like, obviously it wasn't gonna be like, some cheesy imagine if moment where they would have to share it, there was a perfectly good couch that Callum graciously claimed.

But seriously, letting them share a hotel room? Oh her dads were so stupid. So so stupid.

Who rents a hotel room for two teenage kids to sleep in together? Literally no one! Rayla was pretty sure it was illegal here in the states.

She was watching their videos with the judges recording over them.

They had gotten third.

Maia and Kasef had gotten fourth.

By a hair.

Callum walked up to her and took one of her headphones. She glanced at him as he ambled over to the couch, and then immediately back to her screen.

He was shirtless, he'd just gotten out of the shower.

She was totally not staring.

Yes, yes she was staring.

His pajama pants hung low on his hips and she could see the waistband of his briefs.

 _Slow your roll, Rayla, Jesus shit,_ she thought, looking back to the screen.

I'm not really feeling the connection with these two, the judge said. There's this obvious disconnect from this girl who has worlds of experience and a nearly adult dancer who's just barely making his debut.

Callum coughed, maybe a coincidence but probably in indignation, focusing on the sketch he was doing.

And Rayla was looking at him again. He had a towel around his neck, and his tousled hair was still damp. She wasn't sure if he had been somewhat toned before he'd started dancing, but now she was looking at his arms-

Her dads were so, so stupid.

She turned her attention back to the screen. Two seconds later, her missing airpod got chucked at her face.

“I can't believe you Rickrolled me!” he shouted.

“You have your headphones! Watch them yourself!”

“You suck," he said, getting up and kicking her to move over on the bed. “Just disconnect and we can watch them together.”

Rayla rolled her eyes, but she put away her headphones and went back to the judge video.

I definitely don't think that there should be verbal communication on stage. It's still March, it's still early, but she's obviously prompting him, and I really love to see a team effort in a PDD.

“‘Prompting’ my arse.” Rayla said. “I wasn't prompting shite, you knew what ye was doin.”

“She just sees our lips moving.” Callum said.

Now, there's some passion here, in the kiss. Very fluid movement from the lift to the theatrical portion of the dance. Excellent training shown in those fast steps, make sure our male dancer is turned out the whole time. Oh, beautifully executed lift. I can really tell as y'all keep on going that you're getting more into it, you're working as a unit, really good.

Make sure your female dancer keeps her working leg straight. Beautiful synergy here with the arms...

Here, the training in the male dancer is evident. Excellent control, perfect bevel in the attitude, incredible speed. He's like a different dancer.

Rayla watched sleepily. The critiques were on things more and more miniscule.

God, were her lines really that bad? She could not believe it.

“We're going to the pool,” Runaan said. Either of you want to come?”

“No thanks.” Callum said.

“Too tired.” Rayla added.

“Your loss.” Ethari said, and they left.

They watched the videos together for a little longer. Rayla couldn't focus. Callum was right there. Right freaking there, watching the video casually.

“Callum.” she said.

“Hm?” he asked.

She was thinking about their kiss onstage. Something was different.

“I- I'm sorry.” she said. “for not telling you more about me.”

“Don't worry about it, Rayla.” he said.

“You're defending me and you don't even know what for.” she said.

“I don't need to.” he said. “We had a whole conversation about this this afternoon. If the best way I can help you is not to know, then I don't need to know.”

“Callum, would you still be my friend if I told you?”

“What could be so bad?”

“I don't want to ruin this,” she said, curling onto her side. He looked at her. “I need you.”

“I'm not gonna leave.” he told her.

“Do you promise?”

“Course.”

“I think I'm falling in love with you, Callum.”

He was quiet.

_I think I'm falling in love with you_ , she'd said. Remnants of makeup on her eyes. It wasn't her big grand secret. What was he even doing? Had he said anything? How long had it been since she spoke.

Was it too late to say something now? What was he even gonna say?

He was still looking at her.

“Like, as a person,” she said, backtracking. “Like a friend, you know how you say you love your friends? Like that.”

Callum nodded. “I love you too. Like a friend.” The lie sat awkwardly in his throat. Not that it was a total lie- he did love Rayla as a friend. And maybe more than that. Maybe a lot more than that.

He retreated to the couch and rubbed his hair dry. The judge continued to talk.

“Congrats on that win!” Claudia said, clapping Callum on the back in their art class.

“Is there charcoal on the back of my shirt?” he asked.

Claudia laughed hesitantly. Callum rolled his eyes and wet his paintbrush again.

“I'm serious though, Cal, that's incredible. Do you think Sarai would be proud?”

“I don't know what my mom would think. She never really talked about dance with me when I was little.” Callum cocked his head when a line didn't look like what he wanted it to. “The next competition is in San Fran, though. So my step-dad and Amaya are coming... Maybe they'll say something about her.”

“Dude! The hospital's letting me off on Saturday! I could go!”

“I mean, only if you want to.” Callum said, blushing slightly.

“When do you go on?”

“Six forty.” she entered it into her calendar.

“I’ve only seen bits and pieces on your story. I don't know anything about Ballet though.”

“It's still fun to watch, I think.” Callum said. “At least, our routine is.”

“I'll see if my Dad will let me borrow the car. Can you believe he won't buy me one? I mean, Harrow bought you a car when you got your license. It's not like our family is poor, my dad's a doctor, just like yours-” she continued on her tangent as Callum continued to paint. He used to hang onto every word she said, but now he zoned her out like he did with the rest of the people that talked during class. When did he start doing that to Claudia?

She was his longtime crush- he didn't know if he could recall a time he'd known her when he didn't have a crush on her. He looked up at her, briefly. She was still pretty, her long black hair pulled back out of her charcoal-covered face, and delicate features, and her kinda evil-witch smile. But his stomach didn't drop like it used to. He turned back to his painting.

“Nice, Callum.” their art teacher said. “I'm a little hesitant about this Halo around her head, make sure you bring the color up to meet her face.”

“Yeah, I should've started with a base coat.” Callum replied absently. It wasn't his best work, but he wasn't trying to make it.

“Congratulations!” Zoey told him, catching him in the hall. She wasn't scary to talk to now, either.

“Thanks! I didn't see you there, though.” she laughed.

“I dance contemporary, dude. Our events were all the day before.”

“Oh.” Callum said. “Cool. Sorry, I didn't know.”

“No problem. I saw that five pirouette that you did on the DCC story. I really hope you'll join our dance team next year. You're a junior, right?”

“Yeah...” Callum said, about to correct her, but the bell rang. Not many people knew he was gonna graduate early. Only his family, Opeli, and Rayla. He scratched the back of his head as he headed into his class. Grishko sent him an email about the upcoming promotions he had to do and the gear they were sending him this month, and the info of a photographer who he had to do a shoot with in San Fran, so he'd have to stay for that Sunday, which was just as well, because his step-dad and Amaya were gonna be doing tourist stuff on Saturday, so he could just drive back with them, not Rayla and her dads.

That sucked a little. He kinda loved their car rides. Him and Rayla in the backseat, talking about everything and binge watching criminal minds or queer eye.

He had to deal with his feelings for her. He started sketching her absently in his notebook, crossing over his molarity equations. He couldn't stop thinking about her eyes. Blue. Periwinkle, he thought, would be the color if he was gonna paint her.

Was it even possible to be professional, to be her partner in the way she needed if he was in love with her? Probably not. She just needed a close friend. Because everyone else left her. And he could love her like that, just trusting her and staying with her.

_“I'm just saying, maybe you should Google the person who you spend all of your time with.”_

That's what Maia had said. So Rayla was doing just that... Kinda. She was googling herself, just in case Callum went back on his word and did.

The first link was to her Instagram, and there were a couple articles about her winnings at ABC or WBC, or YouTube videos of her at the Lausanne. Thank God all of the bad stuff was on the second page.

**BuzzFeed unsolved: the kidnapping of Anne Morrison and Rayla McIntosh**

**Who's to blame? Anne Morrison's murder and Rayla McIntosh's disappearance**

**Rayla McIntosh, 5 years old- found alive after abduction. Anne Morrison found Dead**

She felt sick just looking at the articles. Once, when she was twelve, she'd read and watched all of them, to try and see if they could bring back any of the memories from back then. If she could remember the man who kidnapped her and Anne.

It didn't work, but she did throw up about three times throughout the process and couldn't sleep right for about a week after it.

She didn't get why her body had that strong of a reaction to something she couldn't even remember happening. She also didn't remember telling the Sun what they'd reported- that she told the man to take Anne instead of her. It didn't seem like something she'd do, even back then. She closed the incognito tab and dry-retched in the bathroom.

Stupid trauma, stupid PTSD. Stupid pride telling her that she couldn't ask her dads to take her to a therapist.

She sat back on her knees, breathing slowly. She rubbed the scar on her cheek- no one could see it anymore, but if you pressed it, there was a little lump of skin that rolled over the bone.

Her phone alerted her to a text, the specific ding she'd assigned to Callum, so, collecting herself, she stood to look at it. Just some scheduling with coming home on Sunday. She read it and responded, then got a notification that a package had been delivered- new pointes.

She went and got them, taking out her ribbon and elastic rolls. Breaking pointe shoes was a meditative process to her.

She wore the dramatica II shoes, and she knew exactly where to break the sole to her foot, without even putting it on.

She marked her right and left shoe and softened the box with her hands. The crunch was satisfying and familiar.

She didn't play music as she did it, she just warmed them and broke them and sewed them. It took her a solid hour and a half to sew new pointe shoes, because she darned the whole tip, precisely and carefully. She relaxed into the comfort of the routine. It calmed her stomach.

 _“You're such a mystery, Rayla.”_ Callum had told her. What a silly boy. And how terrible was it that he was, in her mind, one of the only people in this world who came remotely close to knowing her.

 _You should tell him,_ a persistent voice in her head told her.

What would she tell him?

Aye, Callum, the reason everyone hates me is because I was abducted by a serial killer when I was a wee one and told him to kill the baby before me. And I'm alive because he listened.

No.

What, would she just send him the link to the Reddit thread about it? The Unsolved episode? Any of the billions of true crime podcasts?

It was too late now. She should have told him when they started dancing together. There was no good time- it was too early until it became a thing that could ruin them.

She put the shoes on and broke them at the Barre in her room until they were comfortable and ready for Saturday. Then she put them back in the box. She'd practice on the dead ones.

_@callum.creates posted:_

__

_I love dancing in the halls when they're empty! Photo by @zoey-doey-dance #dance #instaflexibilitypics #maledancers #grishko #grishkoguy_

Rayla laughed. She had been overthinking again. She really needed to catch herself when she did that. She liked the post, then screenshotted it, and then, because she had not impulse control, made it her home screen.

Whatever happened... For the first time with a friend, she thought it would be okay.

“Wait, 'ave ye seen this one?” Rayla asked, and Callum's phone vibrated as she sent him another meme.

“Rayla, please,” Callum said, his voice that of a broken man. “I can't do this.”

_@le.pointe.is.memes: you walk in and your teacher tells you you're doing a PDD and he's your partner. WYD?_

“You're viral, Callum!”

“There are better dancers in this world than me. More handsome.”

“Currently, after Julian Mackay, you're Ballet's biggest sweetheart.” Rayla said. They were chatting on the phone, even though they would see each other tomorrow. “And I really can't blame anyone for it. Yer lines are super solid, and the smile is good.”

“I have almost as many followers as you do. My Instagram still lists my profession as “duck collector” and my bio is dorky things Soren wrote when he stole my phone at work.”

“Then just change it. At this rate, you'll get verified.”

Callum crossed himself as a joke, even though Rayla couldn't see it.

“I kinda don't wanna go to sleep, you?” he said. “I mean, we compete tomorrow, and we have to get up at seven to drive down to San Francisco.”

“And it is three in the morning.” Rayla added.

“It would be nice if my phone would stop buzzing for two seconds.”

“Dude, if this meme gets into the hands on non-dancers, I believe you'd be totally fucked for like, life.”

“People will recognize me at comps. I can't do this, Rayla, I can't.” Callum laughed.

“Ooh, listen to this- ‘When you straight but you realize that that Ballet meme boy is fine as hell.’” she laughed.

“I have other good pictures! Why this one? It's not even funny!”

“I dunnae, maybe because this one got more likes and so more people found it. Besides, I can't really blame them, yer pretty attractive.”

“You think I'm attractive?” Callum asked her. She made a sound like a choking cat.

“Objectively... Like... aye, I think yer attractive. I'm not gonnae lie to ye, objectively, ye... uh.... Ye have a good face. Bone structure.”

“Thank you, Rayla, objectively, you're attractive, too.”

He thought it was stupid, how he was dancing around her.

_I think I'm falling in love with you, Callum._

He knew what she had meant there. No vague interpretations were possible.

“I'm putting my phone on silent, and go to sleep, so I don't drop you onstage tomorrow. Love you, Ray.”

“Love ya too, ya daft nit.” Rayla said.

He hung up on her, silencing his phone and putting it down. He didn't sleep for a while though, thinking about the fact that he was gonna kiss Rayla again tomorrow. They didn't really practice the kiss, and when they did it was just soft and non-committal. It was awkward in rehearsal. Onstage, though, it would be good, when they were wrapped up in the characters.

_Me, taking the hall pass and going to my car for snacks when I told my teacher I was going to the bathroom_

Callum groaned.

Rayla loved their car trips down to the competitions. Since this one was in California, logically, Callum could've driven himself later, but he dragged himself out of his house with his duffel bag and costume and fell into the backseat of their car.

“More memes?” she asked.

“God knows.” Callum said. “I haven't checked my phone.”

Their two practices that week were just nitpicking what the judges said. It was the end of the term for Callum, so they didn't hang out at all, they just texted. Rayla was fairly relieved by that, because she didn't want to confront the absolute terror about what she'd told Callum a week ago.

He relaxed as they headed off. Rayla closed her eyes- just for a second, she swore- but she woke up drooling on Callum's shoulder. She opened one eye slightly in order to ascertain the situation. He was sleeping too, resting his head on her's. She closed her eyes again.

San Fransisco was pretty. Cool grey fog was rolling in through the bay and wove between the skyscrapers. She elbowed Callum's side to get him up and took a video.

“Headed to San Fran with Callum for CBCR!” she said, zooming in on his face waking up. He rubbed his eyes and then swatted at the camera. She laughed and ended the video.

“If I wasn't getting paid to post every other day by Grishko, I would delete instagram.” Callum said with a sigh. Still, he opened his activity to clear the notifications, and then reposted Rayla's story.

“Wow, you're famous.” she drawled, and he punched her arm.

“Rayla, Ethari and I have to talk to Janai about scholarships for that Jivoy masterclass. Can you and Callum check in by yourselves alright?”

“We were gonna meet my aunt Amaya after check in.” Callum said.

“We'll get our badges after. Make sure Rayla gets to her warm up on time, Cal.”

“I can get to warm up by myself,” Rayla said, put off.

Runaan made eye contact with Callum, the kind with hidden messages, which was terrible, because she was trying _their_ daughter and Callum wasn't supposed to be allowed to _do_ that. Callum just chuckled and nodded.

“She'll be there on time. In costume.” he said. She glared at him, and he shrugged.

Amaya was the first person other than Ezran that Rayla met that was really related to Callum. She could subtract Harrow from Ezran and understand Callum's mother, more or less, but she could understand His dad by subtracting Amaya from Callum, if that made any sense.

Amaya was obviously not a copy of Callum's mom. She was stockier, tall. She waved to Callum, and he ran up to her and hugged her. She only knew what Callum had told her- she was a MMA fighter as a hobby, but was good enough at it to be her profession, and a Paramedic out of duty, although she didn't need to do it. She had been born Deaf, and mute, and so she signed.

Rayla waved to her and signed what little Callum had taught her- “Hi, my name is Rayla.”

“She says it's nice to meet you.” Callum translated as his aunt signed something back.

Apparently, she had moved to California from New York when Sarai had gotten sick, to help with Callum and Ezran.

Ezran hugged Rayla, and she shook hands with Harrow awkwardly.

“Do we have to watch people dance _all day?_ ” Ezran asked Harrow, and he chuckled, rubbing the kid's afro.

“Dad says you guys can go to the aquarium until I go on,” Callum said, squatting in front of him.

“Freak yeah.” Ezran said, pumping his fist. Callum laughed. 

He signed as he talked to his dad- “I perform at 6:40, so be back at 6 to get good seats and make sure you don't miss me.”

Harrow saluted his son sarcastically before heading out to the visitor's exit.

Rayla and Callum were going on their way when a woman with long braids and a yellow sleeve tattoo brushed past them, grabbing Amaya, who was wearing a fire station t-shirt.

“What's going on?” Rayla asked the volunteer next to her.

“Oh, our medical staff canceled suddenly, and if people want to compete, then legally we need someone with first aid training.”

“There's gotta be some coaches-”

“Everyone's plate is pretty full. When someone said there was a Paramedic here, they jumped on that.”

Amaya went with the woman.

“I'm sure this'll be one of those crazy stories she tells at dinner.” Callum said.

As was her habit, she found a quiet spot of hallway to do her makeup, pulling Callum along with her.

“What does your aunt Amaya think about the whole college thing?” Rayla asked, packing foundation on.

“She went to community college- not cause she wasn’t smart, she’s flat out a genius, but because she knew what she wanted to do and she did it.”

“Who are you still waiting on?”

Callum tapped his foot uncomfortably. “Stanford. Harvard. Yale. Duke. Princeton. Oxford. Cambridge.”

“The fact that you’re even on the waitlist for those is insane.” She said.

Callum sighed. “Yeah.”

“Out of those, where do you want to go?” Stanford was pretty close, she thought she could deal with that.

“Oxford would be nice, I guess. Get as far away as possible from here. From those expectations.”

“While still fulfilling them.” Rayla reminded him.

“Yeah.” Callum said. “I guess so.”

“Where do you really wanna go though?” she asked, even though they had this conversation all the time.

“Who knows. Rent an apartment in the Bay area and paint every day and dance every evening.” he said.

“Since when is dancing part of your life plan?” she asked.

“I dunno.” he said. “Since I fell in love with... It. Since I fell in love with it. Dancing.”

“When was that?”

He stopped his tapping.

“A month ago, maybe.”

“Oh.”

She wanted to think about it more, but she was pulled in a dozen directions, into her costume, into her warm up, onto the stage. Callum's aunt Amaya waved at her from the wings while wrapping some poor girl's ankle. She had a big smile.

Rayla waved back before going on for her dance. She didn't nail it the same way she did the last time. But it was good. She wasn't focused. Preoccupied.

She and Callum ate at a McDonald's during the downtime before the PDD competition began, because all of the local restaurants were too expensive. She hadn't seen Maia or her new partner, Kasef, all day, and it didn't leave her relieved, just on edge, because it seemed like they were gonna show up any second and mess stuff up.

The fog had retreated from the streets as they walked back to the convention center, but the sky was full of heavy clouds that threatened to break any second. This added to her unease. The weather felt like a manifestation of her anxieties about anything going right for once in her life.

“Are you okay?” Callum asked, catching her wrist. “You seem a little out of it.”

She blinked a couple times as she processed what he'd said.

“Yeah, I'm fine.” she said.

How fucked up was it that something she couldn't remember, that she only thought about for a few minutes days ago left her so out of touch with the world.

Their pdd wasn't as electric as the last time they performed it. It was full of Rayla's insecurity.

He never dropped her (Callum was too consistent for that), but she did roll her ankle on a finger spin sequence.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, pulling her close.

“No, it was my bad.” She said.

They got fifth place. It wasn’t that bad. Like, really, it wasn’t. When she and Marc danced together, they always won first, but she couldn’t expect that from Callum all the time. And she got third for her solo, which she also should’ve been expecting.

And she forgot, she guessed, that they weren’t going home together, because Callum was talking to his step-dad and Ezran (they’d gotten her a little thing of flowers, because they were sweet (where Callum got it from)) and then he waved goodbye and left with them.

She didn’t even realize she’d been forming thoughts- an _apology_ for being the reason they lost, until he was gone and she didn’t get to say any of them.

They didn’t text that weekend. She just liked the artsy pictures of him on Grishko’s page of him dancing through the streets of San Francisco.

Callum woke up to a bunch of emails from colleges, like normal- _will you accept admission? This is your scholarship on merit! You're eligible for our honors program._ One, though, he hadn't been expecting.

_Callum Chen, you're invited to the Bay Area Ballet Companies' summer intensive program, as well as an audition for the company, if you proceed with the intensive, in July for a position in the company._

The rest of it was a lot of information about payment, what joining the company could entail, things like that.

Callum stared at his phone.

He'd talk to Rayla about it later.

He didn't know much about this company- he knew Rayla wanted to dance somewhere in Russia, like Marinsky, and that she'd done a Vaganova intensive when she was younger, but-

What was he thinking? He couldn't drop all of his plans for the future, his life, just to dance for a living.

He didn't delete the email.

He and Rayla went out after practice on Tuesday.

They didn't live in a big town, it was on the beach, and the downtown was really touristy, and the real town was kinda bland. But they had some pretty nice parks, and nothing was too full until spring break. And they were just walking, wearing sweats over their dance clothes.

“I'm sorry about Saturday.” Rayla said.

“Huh? Cause we didn't place? It's no big deal.”

“It's my fault though.” she said, sitting down on a bench.

Callum flicked her bun teasingly. “Don't say that. A pas de deux is a team effort. And we both could've done better.”

He sat next to her, examining her face as she looked out at the setting sun. Everything about her turned gold, her face, the wisps of hair free from her bun. Even her light blue eyes seemed to be holding the sunlight.

“Do you think that I trust you?” she asked.

“You let me spin you around and toss you.” Callum said. “That takes a lot of trust. And you let me be your first kiss. That takes trust, too.”

“My parents are in prison.” she said. Her eyes were tearing up, but maybe that's because she was looking directly at the sun and hadn't looked away.

Callum felt like he couldn't say anything as Rayla's breath hitched.

“They have been since I was really little. Runaan is my godfather. When they both went away, he got custody, and then married Ethari a year later. And then we moved to the states.”

Callum felt frozen.

“My parents ran a daycare. One day, uhm. It was just me and a girl whose parents were late picking us up. I don't know what they were doing... Probably paperwork or something. They only left us alone for a second.” she was totally still as she was talking. “Someone took us. Tied... Um. Tied us up in an old RV. Ra... Bad things happened. I got out, I don't know how, but I ran, barefoot, on this old back road for like, miles, until I found someone's house. I'd been gone for a week, my face was plastered everywhere. They called the police, but by the time they found the RV, Anne was dead, and there was no trace of the man who did it.”

What could Callum say? Nothing.

She pitched forward, gagging. Callum instinctively held her, patting her back.

“You don't have to tell me.” he said.

“If I hadn't left her, Anne would still be alive. My parents might not have gone to jail for neglect.”

“No, I think you would both be dead.” Callum rubbed circles on her shoulder.

“Maia's right, though. I don't care about others. I just do things to help myself.”

“Rayla- no. You went through trauma. Like, severe, life altering trauma. It's not your fault what happened. How old even were you? Six?”

“Five.”

“It wasn't your fault.”

“You're not... You don't think it makes me a bad person?”

“No. It's okay.”

“And you're not angry I didn't tell you earlier?”

“Rayla. If I were you I wouldn't tell anyone. But I'm glad you told me. I can be here for you. Survivor's guilt is a bitch.”

“You say that, but people always leave me after I tell them.”

“I'm your partner, silly.” Callum said, rubbing the back of her head amicably. “And your best friend. You couldn't get me to leave if you chased me with knives.”

He was gonna tell her how he felt, but it felt silly now, the weight of what she'd said hanging on their heads.

She laid her head on his shoulder as they watched the sun set over the ocean. It was gonna rain tomorrow, but for the time being, clouds rolled peacefully over the waves.

He drove her home and then sat in his car outside his house. He looked up the case, but after watching the first bit of a YouTube video on it, he felt sick. The pictures of a very young Rayla, covered in dirt and blood, he didn't want to see them.

He couldn't sleep that night, so he painted.

He'd bought a giant wood panel, four by nine feet, and the sketch on it finally looked right, so he laid down layers and layers of paint. A lot of blue, and yellow. Sunset yellow.

In all of Rayla's dance photos, ever since she was little, there was a bit of face jewellery on her right cheek. She had a little scar there.

He painted a teardrop.

He got an audition invitation from Ballet West.

Their third and final competition in March was a qualifying one for ABC, which would then lead to UDC, which would lead to YAGP. Callum's aunt Amaya had somehow been roped into volunteering again as 1st aid.

“I think she has a crush,” Callum told Rayla, “On the competition director. You know, Janai?”

Rayla laughed. “Janai's a lot to deal with. She's pretty intense.”

“So is my aunt Amaya.” Callum laughed. “So, are we gonna kill it today or what?”

“We are so gonna kill it.” she said. “First, I gotta slay my solo though.”

“I'll cheer you on.” Callum said as she got whisked away to warm-ups.

Maia was ahead of her, so they were pressed together backstage.

“How's it going with that dorky partner of yours?” she asked. “Has he ditched you yet? You guys didn't do great in S.F.”

“No, Callum's here.”

“Of course. I guess you haven't told him yet.”

“I have. And because he's a halfway decent person, he's still my friend.”

Maia rolled her eyes. The girl in front of them finished, and Maia shrugged as she went on.

Rayla didn't watch her, she never watched the performers before her. It just made her nervous. Maia was doing the Don Quixote variation Rayla had done last year. Even though she wasn't looking, she could still hear that she was off, just a little bit.

Rayla was calm as she took the stage. She heard Callum whoop in the audience, and she smiled. She rarely felt this much ease when dancing in front of others. And rarely did she complete a dance and think- that was the best I could do.

Everything Maia said to her melted away after she got offstage and ran into hugs from Runaan and Ethari. She was on some sort of buzz for the rest of the day, and she and Callum did perfect on their PDD, too. 

“Callum Chen?” someone asked as they were waiting for awards. They looked up to see a strict looking older man, in a suit. “I'm Raymond Carson. A recruiter for the American Ballet theater.”

“Hi.” Callum said, shaking his hand.

“I want to offer you an audition. You have so much talent, I can't believe you only started a few months ago. What you could do with actual coaching-”

Amaya cut him off suddenly, shoving him from behind.

“Ah. You're Sarai's sister?” Carson said.

“You don't want to deal with this guy.” she signed to Callum. “He's not even supposed to be talking to you.”

“But the American Ballet theater-” Rayla said. “That's incredible that they would make an offer to someone as new as Callum-”

Callum's phone buzzed.

Carson was arguing as best he could with Amaya, who looked about ready to punch him, and he was certainly well aware of the power her arms had. His dad had showed up, Callum didn't even know that he'd come, and people were arguing, and he was just looking at his phone.

“I got into Duke.” he said, quietly, almost to himself, but it gave everyone pause. “I got into Duke.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please support the artwork in this chapter on Tumblr! You can find it @aster-draws on Tumblr.
> 
> Kudos, comments and bookmarks help me out lmao


	5. April- Part one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I know it’s July. No I don’t have an explanation for you. Leave me alone. April is split up because we were at 7k and I decided that it was time. Thank you all for still loving and supporting this work. Enjoy!

It had been a week of radio silence from Callum. He didn't post anything, he didn't talk to her, and he didn't come to practice. This was fine, because they had a whole month till their next competition. But it was also not fine.

She felt really, really lonely. She was so used to being alone. Why was it worse now? She was really worried about him. Duke was so far away. North Carolina. Would he go? She didn’t want him to go, she really didn’t.

She was laying in her bed, simultaneously too hot and too cold, when her phone rang.

“Callum?” She asked immediately, instead of saying hello.

“Hey.” He said. His voice sounded scrapey.

“Where have you been? Soren messaged my Instagram and asked me why you hadn’t been into work, and his sister said that you weren’t in school either.”

“Can you pack a bag?” He said.

“What?”

“I’m in my car. Outside your house. Spring break is this week.”

“And...?”

“And I’m gonna drive down the coast.”

Rayla stopped and contemplated for a second. “I’ll be out in five.”

It was that blue hour of morning before the sun was up and everything was a dozen shades of blue. Callum was in his car, his hair messy and two coffees in the drink holders he'd made them himself, she could tell by the handwriting on the lids.

She tossed her duffel bag in the back and sat in the front seat as he pulled off. There wasn't any music playing and they didn't talk at all, and Rayla just watched the sun rise from the window and drank her coffee. He'd made it at home, probably. He had an espresso machine and all of the ingredients.

It tasted familiar.

“Mocha Latte.” he said. “You ordered it on the day we met.”

“Ye didn't get me a hot chocolate?”

“I thought you’d appreciate the caffeine.” he paused, still looking at the road. “I did make you one, you know? I brought it out and you were gone.”

“Ethari told me it was time to go.” she said. They fell into silence for another pregnant moment before he said:

“You know that man from the American Ballet Theater?”

“What, Raymond Carson?”

“He’s my birth father.” Callum said. His knuckles were white on the wheel, and Rayla noticed a shine in his eyes.

“Callum, pull over.” she said. “You're in no fit state to drive, pull over.” he did, and they crossed the little highway on a cliffside, jumping the safety barrier to sit on the edge, feet dangling and chests slung over the handrail.

“Amaya told me about him. He offered my mom a position on a scholarship, but she had to sleep with him in order to keep it. And she was trying to finish school, but she loved dance so much... When she got pregnant with me, she tried to hide it. They'd offered her a spot as the principal dancer. She couldn't give it up. And Raymond told her she had to keep me. She didn't want to. She wanted to dance more.”

“Callum-”

“I don't want your opinion on it, Rayla.” He said, his voice cracked. “They kicked her out of the company. Carson left her high and dry. She had to finish school as a single mom and she struggled. I ended her dancing career.”

“I’m sure yer mum loved you-”

“She never wanted me to dance.” Callum said. “Amaya told me. She never wanted me to dance because it ruined her life. She was never okay- we were never okay until my dad came and married her and he had money. He knew. Harrow- my dad knew. It's why he wants me to go to a good school, because he wants me to have everything, he wants me to be okay and not like my mom.” He was crying now, full force, and Rayla had no idea what to do. She realized, softly, that it was the first time she'd heard him refer to Dr. Katolis as his dad, and not his step-father. “There’s a restraining order against him. He’s not supposed to be in my life, ever.”

“Did he know who you were?”

Callum nodded. “I don't think he knew I was dancing.”

Rayla looked at the ocean. The sun was actually up now, although everything had been pink a few minutes ago. “Well, I think you’re better than ABT, anyways.”

“And my dad thinks I’m better than Duke.” Callum said. “I think it would be nice, you know, to go to school with other kids like me. Geniuses.”

“You’re calling yourself a genius?”

“It’s the technical term.” Callum said. “You of all people know I’m stupid as all get out. Just the whole memory thing, I’m good at problem solving.”

“Naturally incredible at Ballet.” Rayla muttered. Callum took her hand. He had paint on the side, yellow, some blue on the fingernails, and a slew of flesh tones that looked like he was plain bad at matching foundation.

“Can’t you tell I’m stupid about the things that matter, though?”

“Yer callin’ Ballet stupid?” He laughed, dropping his head into the crook of his elbow. His shoulders shook silently. Rayla’s heart was so low it was like it was in her stomach. She felt nervous, like she never had before. It was a billion times worse than before going on stage.

“This whole week... I broke my phone, cause I was angry at my dad... both of them, I guess. Harrow and my father. And I was talking to Ez, and Amaya, and my dad... Soren and Claudia came over, so I explained it all to them, but all I could think about was talking to you. Telling you everything that had happened. I just wanted to come back to you. And I wanted to dance with you again, but more than that.”

Oh, this was really happening to her right now.

“I wanted to see you laugh, and blush when I put pomade in my hair, and do that hand flexing thing you do before going across the floor.” He looked up at her, with this perfect little half smile and sparkle in his eye. “Rayla... I think I’m falling in love with you.”

“You’re not joking.” She said.

He cracked up again. “No. And not just like a friend, thanks.” He moved his other hand to push her little baby hairs away from her face, even though they fell back right away. “I love that you have a Scottish accent even though you’ve been living in California for most of your life. I love that you dance in your room even though you have a literal studio downstairs. I love that you can't drink your coffee black and you hide three bags of Cheeto puffs under your bed.”

“Ah, fuck.” She said, putting a hand to her mouth. She was laughing, even though she didn’t want to, because his face was so bright.

“And I’ve been a mess. Like, such a mess. I repainted my room, and finished all of my AP portfolio works for the year, and totally reinvented my wardrobe. I didn’t buy a lot of clothes, just got rid of a bunch. And I was two seconds away from dyeing my hair before realizing Ethari would murder me. So I didn’t want to come here and put this all on you, but then I realized that you told me everything about your past, and I could help you, and you’re the only one I want to help me.”

“Callum, ye talk a lot.” Rayla said, taking the hand that was still by her face.

“Well, some of the words have got to be the right ones, right?” He asked.

“Yeah. They’re all the right ones. For once.”

This kiss wasn’t scripted. It was sitting, bumping noses, curiosity about different things now that it wasn’t on a stage. It was warm in the sun, and sprayed from the sea below them. Like a scene from a movie. Another car drove by, and they separated, laughing.

“I think we should go to Six flags.” Callum said.

“Why not?” Rayla said.

  
  


Callum had spent an entire week thinking about Duke, and ABT, and Raymond Carson, so he was determined to have a whole three days without thinking about any of it. His dad had agreed to it. Granted, he didn’t know that he’d picked up Rayla. They’d gotten together all of an hour ago, it’s not like they were gonna have sex, or anything.

He was embarrassed even thinking about it.

Rayla was bopping to whatever playlist she had hijacked the aux cord to listen to.

He could not believe he just kissed her. Like, a real kiss with the girl he was in love with.

“Your phone is ringing.” She said, turning down the volume. “It’s your dad.”

Callum winced.

“Your dad likes me, right? Will he be annoyed if I answer?”

“My dad still thinks you’re a bad influence because you stabbed your dad in the leg.”

“Accident! I love my dad.” She picked up the phone. “Hi, Doctor Katolis!”

“Rayla-” She put it on speaker.

“Rayla, is callum with you?”

“Did you not tell your dad that you were leaving?” Rayla whispered to him. “Callum, I’m an adult, I legally can do this.”

“Yeah, dad, I’m in the car.” Callum said. “It’s spring break, and I know that you have to stay at the hospital because there aren’t enough doctors, and Amaya is taking Ezran to a dude ranch, which I didn’t want to go to because I’m allergic to hay. I didn’t want to be alone for a week and a half.”

“This is incredibly irresponsible, you missed school, you skipped dance, Duke might rescind your admission if you don’t keep your grades up-”

“I haven’t even accepted my admission, dad.”

“Callum!”

“Dad, I left four hours ago. And you didn’t notice. I have money for gas, we can stay in the car and I will be back the day before school starts up again, and I will accept my admission to the college of my choice. I promise.”

“Callum, you’re only seventeen-” Harrow said. “I only want what’s best for you.”

“All due respect, doctor Katolis,” Rayla said, “But Callum needs time to think. And there’s been a lot of pressure on him from you, and from his... biological father, and my fathers... Everyone thinks they know what’s best for him and what matters is what he thinks is best for him.”

“Please... don’t have unprotected sex.”

“DAD!” Callum shouted. “We- no. No.”

“Is that your way of saying... it’s okay?” Rayla asked.

“I’m only giving you five days.” Harrow said. “Don’t bust all of your savings on a week and a half down the coast.”

“Thanks dad.” Callum said.

“And... I’m proud of you, son.”

“Love you.” Callum said, and hung up the phone.

“I should probably call my parents...” Rayla said.

  
  


“This was a bad idea,” Rayla said as they pulled into the six-flags parking lot. “Coming to an amusement park on the first day of spring break.”

“Technically it’s the third day, since it’s a monday and break started on saturday.” Callum said. “Did you pack sunscreen? I didn’t pack sunscreen.”

“Oh, I’m gonnae fry. My scottish skin will rebel.”

“You moved to California. You and your scottish fathers. I think this state is literally famous for how sunny it is.” he locked the car and they went out into the hot day. It was just barely heating up, but there wasn’t a cloud in sight, because summer was just around the corner.

They spent the day on all of the different rides, but most of the time was in line. Rayla won a giant otter plush and gave it to Callum, who only managed to win a hat for her. All of it was a welcome distraction. Until they were eating at one of the restaurants, their conversation in a lull, and Rayla checked her phone.

“Oh.” She said.

“What is it?” Callum asked.

“Marinsky accepted my audition application.” She said. “I’ll fly out to Russia in October.”

“That’s great!”

“It’s um... This will be my job for the rest of my life.” Rayla said. “I wouldn’t even be principal, I’d be company but that’s okay. I mean, it’s  _ Marinsky. _ ”

“It’s in Russia.” Callum said. “I’m lucky to get the companies I have, but there’s no way I could get into Marinksy.”

“I don’t expect... I... it’s only an audition.” She said. “And I thought you were gonna go to school and become a famous artist or something.”

“I-” Callum sighed. “We’re not thinking about this. That’s the whole point of the road trip. No thinking about the future.”

“Of course,” Rayla said, putting the phone away. Her russian was poor anyways. And she wanted to stay close to her dads.

  
  


They both figured it would be a bad idea for them to get a hotel without adult supervision-  _ I am technically an adult, Callum, _ and  _ yeah that’s not the point. _ So they drove down to the coast. Callum put down the seats in the back of the car and spread out some old woven blankets.

“Do you sleep in your car often?” She asked. “You have a space heater and pillows and everything.”

“Yeah, I ran away twice after my mom died.” Callum said. “Kinda like I did now, big fights with Harrow. Back then it was cause I was a scared kid. Now it’s cause I’m just lost.” He tossed an old sketchbook into the passenger seat. “When I got a car, I decided that I should be able to use it for freedom, like duh, that’s what having a car is all about, but also in case I just couldn’t be in that house anymore.”

He was finding it hard to look at Rayla, because it was embarrassing. Would she be weirded out if he stared? He just wanted to look at her, was that even allowed.

“Also, I would totally come out here and sleep if I ever wanted to skip class.” He said.

“Is this really any different than getting a hotel?” Rayla asked. “Back of a parked car is just as much of a stereotype as getting a room.”

“God, this is way too uncomfortable to have sex on,” Callum said. “At least I would assume. Haven’t tried it.”

“I know that, I was yer first kiss,” she said. “Unless you’ve been driving other girls down the coast since we met.”

Callum laughed, looking up and meeting her eyes. Her eyebrows were knit, and because she was white in every aspect, her translucent blue eyes reflected the golden lantern between them. “I haven’t been,” he said, realizing that she’d been looking at him this whole time, so there wasn’t anything wrong with looking.

“Of course you haven’t,” she said, swiping at his face playfully. They fell into a silence, listening to the waves crash into the shore. “I don’t want to have sex,” she said, her face reddening, “not yet... I feel like we’re so odd, because we’ve been kissing and touching since we’ve met, but barely talking about feelings.”

“Thank god,” Callum said, collapsing onto his pillow. “I am thoroughly unprepared for the other situation.” Rayla laughed again, laying next to him.

“Yer my best friend,” Rayla said, taking one of his hands. Hers were just barely cold, the sparkly translucent pinkish nail polish she always had on was a little bit chipped, and Callum could only tell because he could feel it. “I’ve always been so alone, Callum, it hurt so bad, and I’m not gonna ruin it with stupid hormones too soon.”

“So just this,” Callum said, “just this is all I want for now.” Rayla scooted closer to him and kissed him. Her lips were soft and she tasted like the sticky mango they had for dessert after eating at some little Thai place.

She smiled into his lips. “I’m tired.” She said. “What’s on the agenda tomorrow?”

“I’m feeling a beach day,” Callum said. “And the aquarium.”

“Oh, I definitely concur.” She said. “Let’s sleep now. I want to sleep.” He turned to the wall of the car as she turned off the lantern. After a second the stars were visible outside the window. She put one arm over his shoulder and put her nose into the crook of his neck. The space heater buzzed.

  
  


Rayla was done with inhibitions. Well, more specifically, emotional inhibitions. She was done with not telling, not showing Callum that she was falling in love with him. She was so used to repressing all of the negative emotions that she forgot to let the positive ones through sometimes.

She texted her family group chat.

Thanks for letting me chill out for spring break.

I love you.

She hadn’t told them that she loved them in a while.

All in all, she thought that she needed the break, just a little bit away from being Rayla, the perfect influencer, perfect daughter, perfect dancer. She had lied about her life so much that she’d forgotten about the reality. She didn’t open Instagram at all in the five days they were gone. She took pictures, sure, but mostly just of moments she didn’t want to forget. Lots of Callum. This was real. Callum and her, her and Callum, who knew her and was with her anyways.

It had to end, of course. They drove back north with some useless things (Callum insisted the five foot otter was not useless. Rayla insisted it was.) Rayla deleted the email from Marinsky.

  
  


“Have you accepted your admission?” his dad asked, the first day out of spring break at breakfast.

“To Duke?” Callum asked, shoving eggs into his face.

“Yes.”

“I haven't made a decision yet.” Callum said. “I have until May 30 to accept it, anyways.”

“You'll practically have graduated then!”

“I'm not a senior, people don't expect me to do the whole decision day whatever.” Callum said, taking a jelly tart. “Ezran, let's go!”

Ezran had elected to ignore the eggs, and instead had around six jelly tarts. They made a break for the car before their dad had the chance to register it.

“You don't want to go to Duke, do you?” Ezran said, in-between bites of pastry.

“Ez, it's not that simple-”

“Yeah, it is. It's a yes or no question.”

“No, I don't want to.” Callum said, stopping, looking at the light while Ezran continued to eat.

“Then you should tell Dad.” he said. “Tell him you don't want to go, tell him what you want to do.”

“Our dad is an incredible doctor. He's smart and accomplished, he's won awards, and if I can't live up to that-" the light turned green- "then all those people, who say that I'm not really his son, then they're right.”

“You want to dance, right?” Ezran said. “Who says that being Sarai Chen's son is any worse or any less than being Harrow Katolis's?”

“I don't  _ want  _ to be Raymond Carson's son. And I want to be Dad's. He probably thinks that I still blame him for Mom's death. And if I do dance for a living, then what if... What if he just lets me go it on my own, if  _ he  _ thinks I'm not his son.”

“Callum...” Ezran said, while they were pulling into his middle school parking lot.

“What?”

“That's the stupidest thing I think I've ever heard you say. He's your dad, he's been your dad for the past ten years, and he loves you.”

“Go learn about chicken foetuses, you dork.” Callum said. Ezran hopped out of the car.

He got an email when he pulled into the high school. SF ballet. An audition.

~I got an audition for SF as a principal!

-They just sent me an email.

~Oh really? What position?

-Prolly just corps de ballet haha. I mean I never really open the emails, just sort them into a folder.

~Well, look at it! SF’s really close to home, and if I get onto the company as a principal that would actually be really nice.

Callum opened the email.

Congratulations **Callum Chen** , You have been invited to the summer audition for the San Francisco Ballet Company for the position as a Principal Dancer. Several agents have seen your performances, and we hope you consider continuing your dance career in a professional capacity with our company after your competition season finishes.

The email went on, detailing whatever dates and fees and everything else.

-well

~well what?

-well I’m also auditioning for a principal dancer spot, i guess.

~you’ve gotta be kidding me

- _ callum chen sent an attachment  _

It was just a screenshot of the email.

~Holy Hell!! We’re gonna audition together, right?

~dude could you imagine

~oh my gosh i would love to dance with you forever

-o//o

~That’s stupid don’t send me those.

-I love you, ray, but some of us have actual education to attend to

~smartypants

-In about two months I’ll be a highschool dropout

~I’m a middle school dropout. Get on my level

-classes. I have classes. Where i have to not be texting.

~course <3

_ She’s so perfect I’m gonna scream. _ Callum thought to himself before shutting off his phone and taking out his sketchbook for his english class. He couldn’t keep his mind on just one thing at once, he was always sketching during class.

He drew sequences from Manon quietly, trying to get out of his head about the SF audition. He was going. Of course he was going. Just for the audition. Rayla would definitely get on, he had no doubt, but he was still certain he would just embarrassed and be cut in the first round of auditions.

  
  


Rayla had... omitted the fact that she and Callum were officially dating to her fathers. She’d never had a boyfriend before, she didn’t have a lot of male friends who she could’ve gone on dates with, Marc was gay. It was a little scary, a little new.

But... for god’s sake, Ethari had chosen Callum to be her PDD partner because he knew that she thought he was cute. How angry would they be, really? No more sharing rooms at competitions though, that’s for sure. Runaan would be more protective for sure, they’d brought Callum on without consulting them first, and as much as he liked Dr. Katolis, that didn’t mean he was supportive of the relationship in a professional capacity or a personal capacity.

“Hi, you guys! I’m Rayla McIntosh, and I’m going live for Bloch as a young artist, and this is my day!” She waved to the camera. There were already hundreds of viewers. “So, this is my room, I have the benefit of living above my studio. This is the hat that Cal...” she faltered. This was a professional account. “Um, yeah, so, because it’s the school year, we have no classes until eleven, which is our toddles class, which I teach. I love the kids. Anyways, I don’t go to school, but it’s important to keep a schedule, so I wake up at eight every morning and go on a run, so I’ll do that and check in after! See you throughout the day!” She ate a granola bar and put her shoes on.

She did actually live really close to Callum, which she wished she knew- she wished she left her house more before meeting him so that maybe she could’ve run into him before.

She slowed her jog in front of the house. When she was a kid, she thought it was haunted. Ivy climbed up the trellises, there was a tower- which she now knew was Ezran’s room, all the way at the top, and it was charming, but it had a definite... vibe.

“Rayla!” Doctor Katolis called, and she stopped totally.

“Hiya there, Doctor Katolis.” She said, stopping and resting her elbows on the low stone wall that surrounded the property.

“Please, call me Harrow. Don’t you have school to be in?”

“I feel like you know I already have my GED.” She said. “Other stuff is in the works for me than just, y‘know, school.”

“Yeah, of course. And just so you know, I’m not judging you harshly, I married a ballet dancer, I-”

“Nope, awkward.” Rayla laughed. “We don’t need to talk about it, and me and Callum are just dating. And have only been dating for a week. And we are teenagers.”

Harrow laughed. “Sorry.” He was weeding his garden. “I’m really... I don’t know what Callum’s told you about his, um, parental situation, especially after what happened at the ballet competition.”

“About Raymond Carson being his biological father? Or Sarai never wanting him to dance.”

“I see he’s much more open with you than me,” Harrow smiled. “Which makes sense, I’m never home, and I’m not his real father, and I’m not fantastic at communicating, especially with teens.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think he’s that great at communicating with adults,” she said with a laugh. “He took a week to tell Ethari that he needed an hour off of a Thursday rehearsal for an art show opening. And he also went in his ballet clothes, I think. Yeah, there was a picture on his story of him with an award and the painting. Sweaty.”

“I remember it.” Harrow laughed, setting his trowel down on the stone wall. “He’s always been like that. At least, since I met him. It got worse after Sarai, naturally. A lot of things did.”

“Well, has he been better after starting dance?”

“Yes. which is why I haven’t encouraged him to stop quite yet. He also got admitted to Yale, and I really would like him to go.”

  
“Yeah, well, he has options. I mean, weekend after YAGP, we’re going to San Francisco to audition.”

“For...”

“For the principal positions on SFB. I don’t think either of us will make it, but doing corps and solos for a few years is-”

“Of course. How could I forget.”

“Well, I have stuff to do, um, a run to finish, so I guess I’ll see you at the next awkward ‘my dads and me over for dinner’ dinner?”

  
“Or whatever dinner Callum decides to introduce you as his girlfriend.”

Rayla blushed and got on with running. She never really got the whole “Runner’s high” thing, but she did like to run. It felt like such a concrete workout, with her blood pumping and her muscles aching. It felt like work, and she liked work. Ballet was also work, in a similar way, but running took less concentration. Feet on concrete. Music blasting in one ear. She was running to the ocean.

She made it to the shoreline park that she’s told Callum about herself. She ran around it once, twice, three times, watching the waves and then the sky and then the grass next to the pavement.

“Hey there everyone, I just finished my run,” She said, getting back into her house. “Say what you will about living in a tourist town, but like... there’s a reason tourists come here, it is super senic. Next up, I’ll be making my breakfast. I like a high-protein diet-or, I need one, that is. So I make these pancakes, it’s all egg, a little sugar, little flour.” She made her pancakes. “And then, because I have a massive sweet tooth, I put on some whipped cream, no sweetener, and blueberries. It makes it all better. This, and a protein shake is always the best way to start a day.”

“Next, I get dressed, and if you follow me on social media or whatever a lot of you ask why I have so much dancewear, and it’s literally just because I do nothing but dance, all the time. I have maybe four to six everyday outfits, and all of the rest is workout or dance things.” She put on some standard dance clothes- pink tights and a floral leo, and then warm ups on over them. “So, I have to teach my class, but I’ll do a livestream around lunch and answer some questions!”

Rayla sometimes wondered if she was a better teacher than she was a performer.

“Alexis, here we go, look at that foot, you’re getting so much better.” she said. She did like teaching, because she was always right. She wasn’t always right when Ethari or Runaan was running rehearsals, but she was right now. “Okay, again, first, second, third, fourth, fifth. Plie, releve, plie, and tendu first. Let’s do it with music, watch me.”

And there was something immensely satisfying about watching the little ones progress, and that lovely spark in the ones that really, truly loved it. With a lot of the older kids, not beginners, there was this air of ballet just being something that they  _ did _ . She did it too. Ballet was just. The thing. But every one of them had loved it before. It was why she loved hanging out with Callum so much, too. Because he loved it.

“And, now I’m live!” She said, sitting against the mirror in the studio. “Let’s do a little Q and A!” She squinted as the questions rolled in at the bottom of the screen. “I am scottish, yes. But I live in Markle Beach, California. Um, I am planning on auditioning for several companies, and hopefully Bloch will invite me to be a brand ambassador at that point. I think I’m the oldest of the ‘young artists’.” She laughed. “Callum...” she laughed again. “Yeah, Callum Chen is my PDD partner, um, he’s a total goofball, but, no, he has school right now, and I don’t think Bloch will let him on screen, he reps for another dancewear company. I wear um- once second- I wear the dramatica II shoe, um, here it is, and I go through a pair about every month? But with that I cycle between two pointe shoes because I go on point four days a week for about six to nine hours on those days, and so each shoe only gets twelve to eighteen hours a week. And I have a pair of shoes that I have only for performances. And, I know this wasn’t really the question but I wear pump split sole flats. Oh, Hi Callum, Callum joined the chat,” she waved. “Okay, then, so. My tips for holding arabesques...”

The live lasted 45 minutes before she had to get out of the studio for a different class, so she went up to get lunch.

“Do you want to go out?” Runaan asked as she mumbled over the things in the fridge.

“Sure, if you’re paying.”

“I’m your dad, of course I’m paying.”

Rayla followed her dad down the stairs, marking the way he favored his left leg. It had been a long, long time since he’d been a principle dancer with London National. He’d been a teacher and choreographer almost as long as she’d been alive. His extensions before the injury had been just barely at 90 from the lack of workouts, but now he didn’t even demonstrate, not really, relying more on Ethari and Rayla to interpret his words and the motion of his arms. Rayla knew his career had been over a long time before she put a pair of scissors three inch es in his leg, but she still felt guilty.

She got a sandwich and he got soup, and they sat in silence for a minute.

“Did I always want to dance or did you guys make me?” She asked.

“Oh you always wanted to dance.” Runaan said. “I wasn’t your teacher back in Scotland, naturally. I had just barely met Ethari, and you know your parents were friends with him from Uni. So, he was your godfather. But you were in ballet classes even back then. And when we got you, we couldn’t afford to put you in lessons, I don’t know if you remember, but we did them at home with you. Well, Ethari did, I was working. And the first year or so when we immigrated, we didn’t do anything with you, we didn’t have the studio then, but you got so depressed. We had you in normal school, people were making fun of your accent-”

“Marcy and Zoey.” She said. “Yeah, they were awful.”

“So we homeschooled you. And that made it a little better, but we were worried that you would be isolated, so we put you into dance again, and Rayla, the difference it made was unbelievable. Here were days that you dragged your feet, but I never made you do anything. You were always just as self motivated as you are now.”

“Hm.”

“Starting Moonshadow was always the goal, you know. But you loving dance probably made it happen. It wasn’t a passive- it wasn’t a byproduct of us being in ballet.”

Rayla picked the tomatoes off her sandwich. They always slid out, so she ate them separately.

“I’m dating Callum.” She said.

“I know.” Runaan responded. “Why are you telling me that?”

“Well, we just got together last week-”

“Last week? I thought you two had been together since the SF competition!” Rayla nearly choked on her sandwich laughing. “Ethari could’ve sworn...”

“So you don’t care? Not gonna threaten him if he does anything to hurt me, ladeedah?”

“I’ll threaten him? You stabbed me with sewing scissors without hesitation thinking I was an intruder, god knows what you’d do to some guy who really hurts you.” Rayla laughed again. “I’m serious, you’re an adult and I like to think we’ve raised you right.”

“Thanks, Dad.” She said, putting her head on her forearms on the table. “I love you.”

He laughed, because that wasn’t something she said a lot. “I love you too, Bug.”

  
  


Callum was watching Claudia play the cello, alone in the practice rooms of the music hall. She was getting ready for solo and ensemble at the regional level, and he was giving her a ride home cause she couldn’t catch the bus. She was good, he’d kinda forgotten. He hadn’t heard her play in so long. He was doing a petit allegro halfheartedly and accounting for the space. She messed up again, and slowed the piece down.

Callum smiled. He still loved hearing her play, even if he didn’t have a crush on her anymore. The stupid heart-achy-ness and sweaty palms all felt a little immature now.

“Can you sit down and watch me do the whole thing?” She asked, doing away with the sheet music.

“Sure.” Callum said, plopping down on the piano bench. She took a deep breath and began the selection from the top. Callum had never been particularly musically inclined, but he knew that Claudia was good. She finished, and he clapped politely. “Damn, Clauds.” He said. “Impeccable.”

“Thank you.” She said. “Too bad that you have that competition on the day of the regional. You were always my biggest hype man.”

“Yeah, I know, I’m sorry.” He said as she loosened her bow and packed up the cello.

“So. I heard you got accepted into a college.”

“Quite a few, really.” Callum said.

“What happened to your senior year?”

“Senior year was never part of the plan.” Callum said, picking up her backpack so she didn’t have to worry about it. “Sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“No, it's okay,” she said. “I mean, we all knew that you were smart as hell. You deserve to get out of here, more than anyone.”

“What do you mean, get out of here?”

Claudia laughed. “I guess it doesn’t feel the same you you, you’re smart, talented, personable, but Markle Beach is like a... a glue trap. Soren still lives at home, and he’s been working at the same cafe as you for twice as long. I’ve been a receptionist at the hospital since last year, and I’ll be there next year, and then I’ll do it full time and move out into my own house and then get old here and die.”

“What happened to being the best cardiovascular surgeon in the US? Or playing at Carnegie hall? Or moving to New York and selling out galleries?”

She strapped the cello onto her back and they started down the hall. “I’m probably only gonna get a bachelor’s.” She said. “At some stupid cheap, let’s everyone in university.”

“You’re smart.” Callum said. “Like, crazy smart, I know you, Clauds.”

“Maybe, but I’m crap at tests.” She sighed. “And homework. So it doesn’t matter how smart I am, no prestigious school’s gonna let me in on a 2.6 gpa and a 12 on the ACT.”

“You should audition for Juilliard.” Callum said. Claudia laughed. “It’s not a joke! Or some other music conservatory! You’re really good, you could do it! Not everything in the world is decided by how well you do in high school.”

Claudia loaded her cello into the back of his car. “That’s easy for you to say, you have good grades.”

Callum tried to think of a response, but he really couldn’t.

He drove her home with no conversation, and then went straight to the studio.

“Sup.” Rayla said, leaning against the doorframe to the studio. “So, two weeks off felt good?”

“I don’t like the implications of that.” He called to her over the screen while getting changed.

“Ye shouldn’t.” She said. He kissed her on the cheek hastily and entered the studio. He missed the simplicity of practice. The complexity of technique was mentally engaging, and the physicality of it was a good distraction. It, more than painting or schoolwork, focused him.

He wanted another week without the future.

  
  


“Wyoming.” Rayla said, stretching out the Wy. “I think it’s worse than Idaho. Or Ohio.”

“Born. In Cincinnati.” Callum said, pointing to his face aggressively. “Do we at least get to visit Yellowstone?”

“You are literally missing school for this, Callum, and your father won’t let me forget it.” Runaan said from the front seat. “But we can go on a hike Sunday.”

The scenery that rolled by the window was bland, a lot of rolling scrub, a few cows, and dingy, poorly kept fences and snow blockers. They stopped in a few small towns along the way, McDonalds and subway. He and Rayla mostly just chilled out and watched criminal minds in the back.

They got to the convention centre with the intense misfortune of immediately running into Maia and Kasef.

“Hey there,” Maia said. “I haven’t seen y’all in a while.”

“Probably because we scored high enough at all our competitions that if we continue, we’ll qualify for whatever with no problem.”

“Well, qualifying is one thing. Winning is another.” Kasef said.

“You still haven’t beaten us,” Callum said crossly. “So I don’t think that’s really something you can say.”

“Come on, let’s move along,” Runaan said, ushering them forward into the hall.

Rayla sat in their section of hallway, squeezing the box of her pointe shoes anxiously as Callum placed the gems in her hair.

“You’ve got this,” he told her. “You’ve been competing for years, what have you got to be nervous about?”

“You know, I always think that I’d stop getting nervous eventually.” She said, breaking the shank more even though it was already perfectly supple. “It never happens, though. Until I get onto the stage, and it all melts away.”

“There,” he said, leaning back. “You’re all ready.” He smiled, and she looked back up at him, all sunshine.

“You’re gonna be watching?” She asked.

“Are you kidding? Always.” He unzipped his warm-up jacket, now that his white peasant top was no longer under the threat of the make-up powders. “Look, the male individual events are going on right now, I’m kinda curious. You’re first up on the female soloists, right?”

She nodded. “Yeah, warm up is in a quarter hour.”

“Alright, well, I hate to leave you alone, but I really wanna watch these events.”

“I’ll be fine, Cal.” She said. “Go on.”

He left her and made his way past all the booths into the A stage, flashing his lanyard in lieu of a ticket. He settled near the back as a freckled redhead hit his starting position.

He had seen professional videos of male dancers, and the short little Instagram vids, but watching the actual dancer was enchanting- the stamina of the turns and jumps, the height that he achieved. Callum conceded to Kasef in this regard- Rayla was doubtlessly the best of the female dancers in paired dancers, but of the males, he was woefully behind. He applauded politely as the dancer exited and the next dancer took the stage. Kasef. Callum didn’t even need to hear the announcement.

He was good.

Actually, not just good, stunning. Callum’s back would probably never be that flexible, and some of the jumps he did, Callum didn’t even know how to begin to attempt. He seemed to fly, the strength from his legs evident in the effortless nature of the height. It looked like it took no power at all, but Callum knew it did.

And on one of these jumps, where one of his legs stayed stationary five feet in the air as the other moved around it, he landed on it wrong. The music kept playing, and Callum could see it, how he didn’t know, he couldn’t feel it quite yet, because he rolled back to standing on his good foot and tried to go on, but his leg was wrong. The audience was quiet as he fell on the next step. The music stopped, because someone in the box knew there was no way he could go on. He struggled up again, just to fall. The sound of his body hitting the stage seemed like it shouldn’t be able to travel all the way back to him, but it did. The audience was only breathing, all of them in simple shock.

The reality of the injury dawned on his face. He cried, these wretched, half breathing sobs, in the quiet of the auditorium, as if he was the only living person in there, the rest simply statues.

“Kasef!” Maia shouted, making her way over people to the aisle and sprinting down it. Calamity broke free, the audience all acting at once- where was the medic? Should an ambulance be called? Which studio is he with? Who is his coach?

Callum stood, not sure of how he should act, as Maia and the redhead contestant carried Kasef off of the stage.

**Author's Note:**

> My dudes. My bros. Who knows how big this will be. I certainly do not. Enjoy this prologue I impulvely wrote on my first rewatch of the show. I know that I switch between ya and ye. I just did whatever felt right. If there’s a distinction blease tell me. My tumblr is @astereaes
> 
> Peace


End file.
